


Metaphysical, Inc

by blackrabbit42



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Inspired by Disney, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrabbit42/pseuds/blackrabbit42
Summary: Loosely inspired by Monsters, Inc. Jensen works for the Life Department, Jared works for the Death Division. When they accidentally bring a live human baby into the metaphysical world, they need to work against the forces of Time and Fate, as well as that little shit from Chaos, Misha, to return baby Bee to her rightful place in the human world. Doing so might involve sacrifices and changes neither of them ever imagined.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 36
Kudos: 72





	Metaphysical, Inc

**Author's Note:**

> Fabulous art by paper magician beelikej  
> See the full artpost here: https://beelikej.livejournal.com/560994.html  
> Written for spn_j2_bigbang 2020

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93629/93629_original.png)

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93307/93307_original.png)

Jensen is late. Again. And worse, he can’t find the portal code for his Mini Decontamination Universe. He knows he put it in his pocket at some point since leaving the Life Division floor, but he sure as heck can’t find it now. If he can’t find it, he can’t decontaminate when he comes back through the portal, and that will mean waaaay more quarantine time than he can afford right now.  
  
He blames that little shit from Chaos, Misha. Had to be him. He replays the ride in the elevator over in his mind as he rushes down the hall to the transfer station. Misha had bumped into him when they entered the elevator, and then had chosen to bend down and tie his shoe weirdly close to Jensen’s personal space. Very suspicious.  
  
Five minutes. He’s got five minutes to get there and either find it or think of something else. He really, really hopes he finds it. The paperwork will be a nightmare if he has to think of something else.  
  
The transfer station is busy this morning, with agents from every department racing around, glancing at watches and frowning at their phones. The vast space echoes with chatter and motion, and Jensen can already feel a headache coming on. It’s going to be one of those days. He nods a distracted hello at Richard from Luck, and swerves to avoid a small sucking void left on the floor by some careless shmuck from Time. He is not going to make it, he is not going to make it…  
  
He makes it. With less than thirty seconds to spare. Thankfully, he remembered the chamber number, even if he doesn’t have a code. And that nod to Richard from Luck must have actually helped, because the green light over the door means that someone else is using the same MDU for this time slot and he can totally use their portal, as long as it’s not some asshole with a kink for rules and regs.  
  
He flies through the door with seconds to spare. Relief washes over him. Jared Padalecki from the Death Division is standing in the MDU, so they must have a job together. He doesn’t know Jared very well, but he seems like a nice enough guy, the kind that’s always smiling and holding doors for people. A little ironic, considering his job, but it takes all kinds, right? Also, _very_ nice to look at. Dresses in all black, the sort of clothes that don’t _exactly_ violate the corporate dress code, but makes middle management frown as he passes by. Little gleams of silver jewelry peek out from under his cuffs, piercings that are revealed only when he pushes his too-long hair behind his ear.  
  
“Can’t find my code,” Jensen blurts out as the lock-down door seals behind him with a hermetic hiss.  
  
“Be my guest,” Jared says, gesturing Jensen into his portal before following him through. That smile and its sidekick, the dimple, derail Jensen’s train of thought. Like he said, he doesn’t know Jared very well, but the way Jared looks at him, like he sees right _into_ him, short circuits his thinking for a moment. Jared has to give him a little nudge in the small of the back to get him to pass through. The portal only stays open for the briefest of moments.  
  
Jensen has, of course, attended many births, and they’re never neat and tidy. But this one is taking the cake in the “things Jensen would rather not have to deal with, thank you very much” department. Screaming women. Bodily fluids. The father has vomited all over the floor and the nurses are slipping around in the mess. Machines blare out alerts that the nurses ignore as they shout to be heard over the cacophony.  
  
The Chaos department is raking in the points hand over fist today, no doubt.  
  
“Dude!” Jared’s voice brings him back to the task at hand. He can’t miss his moment, but Jared’s massive self is in his way. Jensen has to reach around him to lay his hand on the infant as it emerges, messy and covered in gore into the human world. He only has half a moment to wonder why Jared is reaching for the baby as well, before they are whisked back to the MDU.  
  
Jared stares at Jensen in astonishment. Jensen gapes back at him. Between them, they hold an actual living human infant. Like, a literal, physical, corporeal—and Jensen cannot stress this enough— _living_ baby.  
  
Jensen snatches his hands away, causing Jared to nearly drop the baby. Jared catches it with ease and pulls it closer to his chest, as if by instinct.  
  
“What... how… Jared. _Why_ are you holding the baby? What is happening?” Jensen glances behind him just in time to see the portal they came through vanishing. “Why did you steal a baby?” Jensen goes to wipe his hands on his pants, then notices they’re clean. The baby is clean. It coos and squirms in Jared’s embrace, completely oblivious of the impossibility of its existence here on the other side.  
  
The smooth, softly perfect quality of the baby’s skin gives Jensen hope. He’s seen brand new babies and this is not what they look like. “Maybe it’s an avatar?” Jensen asks. Even as he says it, he has his doubts.  
  
Jensen is an avatar. Jared is an avatar. Or rather, they present as humans because they spend so much time near the human world, passing back and forth. Nearly everyone at Metaphysical Inc presents as human, although some of them let their trueforms peek out at clubs and in private. This baby? Nah. It’s the real deal. There’s just something about it. He knows.  
  
He glances away from the baby to Jared’s face. Jared knows it too, and he’s equally as baffled.  
  
“Oh, crap,” Jared whispers. “I cannot get caught with this.”  
  
No kidding. Jensen has been written up three this time this week. He tries, he really tries, but sometimes, things are simply beyond your control. All the stupid paperwork. Matt from accounting has been on his case non-stop; fill out this form, file your W-240, itemize your code archives. What happened to the good old days when it was just about Life and Death? Things were simpler then.  
  
This isn’t a minor accounting error though. Bringing _anything_ over from the human world is a major Health and Safety violation, forget something living. Forget something _human._ They are fucked. They aren’t just going to get fired, they’re going to get… well, something a lot worse than fired, that’s for sure.  
  
When he thinks about it, fired would be a blessing. Jensen hates his job. He’s wanted out for years, but this is beyond a firing. This is like… he doesn’t know. He’s never heard of anything like this happening before.  
  
“We have to get it back,” Jared says, panic rising in his voice.  
  
“The portal is closed. No way.” Jensen says.  
  
“Wait! You went in through my portal. We could still get back through yours.”  
  
Jensen frantically starts patting down his pockets. The code has to be here somewhere.  
  
“And…” Jared says thoughtfully, “You never helped the woman. You have to go back and bridge her.” He looks at his watch. “If you had the same time slot as me, you’d better hurry, it’s almost up.”  
  
Jensen stops, mid-pocketpat. “What do you mean? I did my part, _you_ are the one who has to go back and gather the woman.” Jensen stares at Jared. “Right?” No answer. “ _Right?”_  
  
“Sorry dude,” Jared says. “I was there for the baby.” He fishes into his pocket for his work order and holds it up.  
  
Well, crap. Jensen had just assumed _he_ was there for the baby. Rookie mistake. Plenty of mothers needed a little boost to stay alive during childbirth. Jared was right. He’s got to get back there, or the woman isn’t going to make it. And then he’s going to have to write up a Plan amendment form and there goes his monthly bonus.  
  
Jensen opens his mouth to explain to Jared that he lost his work order with the portal code on it when the station-side door opens.  
  
Mr. Morgan, head of the Death division, is looking down at his clip board when he walks in, and it’s a good thing, because it gives Jared just enough time to hide the baby behind his back.  
  
“Jared, I—” Mr. Morgan steps back, startled. “Oh, uh, Jared, your trueform is showing.”  
  
Jared has sprouted an impressive set of dark, leathery wings and menacing antlers. Well, not his _trueform,_ of course. The form that their human avatars imagine when they behold his trueform. One wing is folded against his back, neatly hiding the baby and muffling her little human noises. Jensen tears his eyes away, trying with all his might to look _anywhere_ but at the hidden Health and Safety violation that will spell the end of his career if it’s discovered. Also, it’d be a good idea not to stare too openly at those antlers.  
  
“Yeah,” Jared says nonchalantly. “I got hit with a stray micro-temporality. Doc says my manifestation control may be a bit shaky for a few weeks. Sorry, boss.”  
  
Mr. Morgan raises an eyebrow, then gives his head a little shake and looks back to his clipboard. “Well, then. I was looking over some of the numbers from last quarter and…”  
  
Jensen tunes him out. He has got to find that work order. Time is ticking. He replays the scene in the elevator again. That weird way Misha was so close to him when he was tying his shoe. Jensen scrunches his toes around in his own shoe. Sure enough, he feels a tell-tale crinkling paper sensation under his foot.  
  
It’s a little weird to be taking off his shoe in front of a division head, but there’s no time to waste. Mr. Morgan doesn’t even spare him a glance. He drones on and on about performance indicators and aggregating their leverage and doesn’t seem to notice Jensen’s quiet cry of victory when his fingers touch a folded-up piece of paper tucked under his sock. Damnit, Misha. It’s a strict violation of inter-office relations to use your powers on fellow agents. But that’s the Chaos division for you.  
  
Jensen clutches the order in his fist as he turns to activate the portal. The woman’s time is running out. He’s just about to step through when Jared sneezes. Loudly. Deliberately. Though it sounds more like a “Jensen!” than a sneeze.  
  
Again, Mr. Morgan doesn’t seem to notice. “… vertical strategy for our optics, so I need you to aggregate your…”  
  
Jared is tipping his wing slightly, and the baby peeks out from behind his back. Jensen tries to edge over, but Mr. Morgan picks that exact moment to look up.  
  
“Careful, Jensen. You’ll poke your eye out.” Mr. Morgan gestures toward Jared’s antlers.  
  
Tick, tock. He’s got seconds. There’s no way he can sneak a baby out while Mr. Morgan is standing there. He’s got to decide.  
  
“Thank you, sir, I was just, uh…” Jensen makes a vague motion with his hand and then points towards the portal.  
  
“Sure, sure, don’t let us hold you up. And call me Jeffrey. None of this ‘sir’ business.”  
  
Jared shoots Jensen a significant look and twitches his wing ostentatiously, as if Jensen hadn’t gotten the hint the first time. But it only serves to draw Mr. Morgan’s attention again. If there had been any chance of sneaking the baby out underneath his nose before, it disappears.  
  
There’s no time left. Jensen turns, steps through the portal.  
  
Back in the hospital room, Chaos is working overtime on this job. Jensen had thought the scene was bad before, but now there’s the added element of— _what the actual fuck happened to the baby that was just born?—_ thrown in.  
  
“What do you mean, you don’t know what happened to the baby?”  
  
“Lock down the unit!”  
  
“Code Adam, repeat, Code Adam for the Chestnut and Daly Wings!”  
  
From the father, “Do you know who I am?”  
  
“The mother is crashing. Out of the way, sir. Let us do our jobs.”  
  
“Your _job_ is to deliver the baby. Where. The. Fuck. Is. The. Baby?”  
  
“It’s not under here!”  
  
Through it all, through all the wires and tubes and beeping alerts and shouting interns, the mother lays still, blissfully unaware.  
  
Jensen hates this part. It happens on the battlefield, it happens at the end of long marriages, it happens here, in birthing suites. He has to help someone live who would definitely not want to live once they found out who hadn’t made it with them. The heartbreak and pain they would face. Jared had the easy part; saving the baby from all the pain and messiness of decay. But Jensen has a job to do. He lays his hand on her heart, and several of the beeping noises cease.  
  
“Heart rate leveling out. Give me 50 cc’s of…”  
  
Her baby really wasn’t dead though. It was living and breathing right behind Jensen in the mini-decon unit. Maybe if he stayed here long enough, Jared would be able to slip through with the baby. He waited, his hand still on the woman’s heart, watching the fear and panic blooming around him. This is what she would wake to. Even if Jared manages to give Mr. Morgan the slip and bring the baby back to this side, he’ll still have to gather it. The woman will just wake to a dead baby, rather than a missing baby.  
  
It’s been much longer than Jensen usually stays on a job, and the stretch of time passing is making his skin itch. He is hyper aware of the march of decay he senses all around him. Maybe if he breathes real shallow. No, that’s stupid. Death and rot aren’t like a virus you can catch, it’s just the natural state of the human world. Still, he doesn’t want to expose himself to any more than he has to. He doesn’t have time for a quarantine, not with his schedule.  
  
He has to go. He can’t wait any longer or he’ll get stuck here. Jared is just going to have to figure out about another way to deal with the baby. It’s not worth getting stuck here in the human world. The thought gives him the creeping heebie-jeebies.  
  
Jensen withdraws back through the portal, barely moments before it closes. He did his job, he should feel relieved. Instead, he just feels bad for the woman he left behind in all that misery. Some days, his job really sucked.  
  
“… so this needs to be a sustainable solution. We’ll conference on this later next week when R&D has had a chance to run those numbers, okay?”  
  
“Sure, Jeffrey. Got it,” Jared says. He’s got both of his wings folded securely around the baby-shaped lump at his back now, and for some reason, he’s sort of… swaying side to side with his hips. He looks like a lunatic. Or maybe like he has to go to the bathroom really, really bad. Both, actually.  
  
Finally, _finally,_ Mr. Morgan turns and leaves. Both Jared and Jensen let out their breath.  
  
“What the ever-living _heck?!”_ Jensen whisper-shouts. “How did this happen? What are we going to do? You have no freaking idea how bad it is over there. A baby just disappeared into thin air! It’s complete pandemonium. And why are you doing that thing with your hips. You look completely deranged.”  
  
Jared gently unfolds one wing slightly. “Shhhh. She’s sleeping. She was making all kinds of noise and I had to tell Mr. Morgan it was just my stomach growling, and thank goodness he’s never actually been in the presence of a real human baby before because he didn’t recognize it.”  
  
“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt, but you’ve been holding that thing for a couple minutes now. You’re going to have to quarantine.”  
  
“First of all,” Jared says, “she’s not a thing. She’s a _she_. And second of all, I don’t believe in all that quarantine nonsense. She’s perfectly safe. Just look at her.”  
  
Jensen blinked. “You don’t _believe_ in ‘all that quarantine nonsense’? Are you out of your mind? Have you _seen_ how fast those things start to decay? You. Are. A. Reaper. You know how fast they die.”  
  
“Hey! No need to be rude, Stork.”  
  
Jensen gasps. Disagreeing was one thing, but that was a low blow. “You take that back.”  
  
“You take back the Reaper thing.”  
  
“Fine!” Jensen throws his hands up in the air. “I take it back. None of this helps solve the problem.”  
  
Jared reaches behind his back and brings the sleeping baby around, his wings and antlers fading and then disappearing altogether. He cradles the baby in his arms, looking down at it like it’s some kind of fascinating science project.  
  
“You are _not_ keeping it,” Jensen says. “No way.”  
  
“Pfff, of course not,” Jared says, stroking the dark, silky fuzz on the baby girl’s head with the tip of his finger. “That would be crazy.”  
  
The soft way he says the words does not convince Jensen.  
  
“It’s a class-six _hazard!”_ Jensen hisses at him. “We should be hitting the decontamination button.”  
  
“And _purge_ her?” Jared looks shocked.  
  
“Well, what else are we going to do? We can’t get back. You’ve got to gather her for your work order one way or another. What happens if you gather her now?”  
  
Jared pulls the baby towards his chest and takes a step back from Jensen. “I don’t know, and I am _not_ about to find out.”  
  
“Well, we can’t bring her back now. Both portals are closed.” Jensen waves at the space behind him where there are one-hundred-percent _no open portals. “_ You get caught with her, and not only will they purge her _for_ you, but you will lose your job and end up in quarantine for _at least_ a century.”  
  
“I keep hearing you say ‘you,’ as if this isn’t your fault” Jared spits back. “You are the one who went for the wrong target. None of this would have happened if you had just been paying attention.”  
  
It’s true, Jensen knows. “Listen. All I know is that I did my job, and I’ve got paperwork to fill out and there’s a very simple answer to your problem—” He points at the decontamination button, “—and if you don’t want to take that way out of this, then it’s your problem. But you’ve got to let me decon, so I can get out of here. So, do what you gotta do before I hit the button.”  
  
“Fine,” Jared says, and his wings and antlers come back. He tucks the baby back under his wing again and storms out.  
  
Jensen cringes, waiting to hear alarms start blaring, hear the familiar racket of a hazmat team rushing in from all directions, but… nothing. He makes sure the door is shut and hits the decon button. The mini universe bursts into flame all around him, burning him clean.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94013/94013_original.png)

The paperwork for Jensen’s end is easy. He had a portal, he used it, he bridged the woman, he came back. That’s what it looked like on paper, and that’s _technically_ what happened. Of course, he left out the part where he used another agent’s portal, the part where he bridged the wrong target, the part where he visited the human world _twice_ on one job, and of course, the part where his screw-up resulted in a living human hazmat going home with Jared for the night.  
  
He has to walk past the Death Division on his way out of the building and he half expects to see it on fire, or at the very least hear some screaming, maybe a few lines of biohazard tape crossing the door. But there’s nothing. So, maybe it’s no big deal after all. Jared probably figured something out. Probably.  
  
It isn’t until he gets home that Jensen shakes the feeling that he might get stopped at any moment. He locks the door behind him and breathes a sigh of relief. Shower first, then he’s going to sit face first in front of his Megallanic black salt lamp for about three hours until he feels good and purified.  
  
He never gets the chance though. When his phone rings, he knows. Jensen takes one last longing look at his luxury wall-mounted waterfall rain shower system with the hand-ground Italian marble tile and puts his shirt back on.  
  
“Jared?” Jensen is surprised to find his heart beating harder than normal. Strange. He should be irritated, but instead he realizes he’s been hoping this would happen.  
  
“I need food for a human baby,” Jared says, his voice a blend of panic and that peculiar shushing voice that parents use to soothe their offspring. “I think it’s hungry. I changed her diaper and told her a story and she won’t stop crying”  
  
Jensen is already walking out the door. This is not his problem, he keeps telling himself. Jared was the one who decided to take the baby home. What did he think was going to happen? He doesn’t even want to _know_ about the whole diaper changing thing. But whenever he thinks of telling Jared he’s on his own, he remembers the way Jared cradled the baby protectively, right from the first, and something in him wants to be a part of that. He gets Jared’s address and heads over.  
  
Jared lives in the trendy nightlife section of town. It’s noisy and lit up and a little tattered, the sort of place where you might go if you had a hot date and a nearly empty wallet. Probably crawling with time travelers, and that always makes Jensen nervous. Jared’s apartment is a walk-up situated over some sort of tattoo-parlor-slash-used-bookstore named _Get Some Ink_. Jensen very carefully does _not_ use the hand railing as he takes the steps up two at a time.  
  
There is a _terrible_ noise coming from behind the door. Jensen stops up short, listening. It’s not just the baby crying, there’s something else. Some sort of raspy, bellowing squeaky noise. It takes him a moment, standing still and listening, to understand what it is. Jared is “singing.”  
Jensen’s hand hovers over the door handle. If he goes in, he’s in. He’s tangled up in this, no way out, no plausible deniability. It sounds like five kinds of Jensen’s worst nightmares behind that door, but Jared’s tenderness towards this _living_ thing tugs at Jensen’s heart.  
  
And anyway, isn’t _he_ supposed to be the agent of life? Is he going to let this deathboy show him up? Jensen may hate his job, but he has his pride. If anyone’s going to keep this baby alive, it’s going to have to be him. And _furthermore,_ that noise needs to stop, one way or another.  
  
Jensen turns the handle and goes in.  
  
Jared is holding the baby close to his chest and bouncing in a slightly maniacal yet gentle way, half singing, half begging the baby to quiet down. He looks at Jensen, wide eyed and desperate. The baby is screaming, her face contorted in a red, angry mask of distress. Jared has wrapped her bottom in a purple tee shirt and fastened it on with darkmatter tape. It’s not holding together very well.  
  
“It’s a little harder than I thought,” Jared admits.  
  
“What did you think would happen?” Jensen asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He takes the baby from Jared and holds it at arms’ length. “Stop making that noise.”  
  
Jared promptly shuts up, but he doesn’t stop the weird swaying from side to side.  
  
Seeing the look on Jared’s face and the possessive concern he has for this thing makes Jensen forget that the whole reason he agreed to come over was to convince Jared that he has to get rid of it, and fast. Out of nowhere, Jensen remembers a tune he heard once while he was bridging a toddler in central Illinois.  
  
_Sunny Days,_  
_Sweeping the_  
_Clouds away…_  
_I want to live_  
_Where the air is sweet…_  
  
Here he falters. He doesn’t remember the rest of the words, only the tune, but the baby has hiccupped and is looking at him in surprise. It’s working, so he can’t quit now. He improvises.  
  
_Can you tell me how to shake,_  
_How to shake this_  
_Dust from my feet?_  
  
Jared looks as surprised as the baby. “Where did you…?” But then he recovers. “First of all, you can’t hold her out in the air like that. Hold her close, like on your chest. She’s not going to kill you, I promise.” He repositions the baby in Jensen’s arms, and the gentleness of his touch helps slow Jensen’s racing heart.  
  
Jared catches Jensen staring at him and grins sheepishly. “Don’t you ever watch them?” he asks.  
  
“Who?”  
  
Jared waves his hand vaguely in the air. “The people. How they do it. I don’t get to work with babies often, but they _do_ something to people. They change them. I love that.” Jared steps back a bit. “I mean just look at _you_.”  
  
Much to his surprise, Jensen realizes that he somehow picked up that weird swaying bouncing motion that Jared had been doing, and now he gets it. He continues to hum the few bars of the song that he can remember. “So, now what?” He gets the feeling that any reprieve from the crying is going to be fleeting at best. Jared is right, this is a human baby, it’s going to need to eat. It’s going to need to have real diapers.  
  
“Oh! Right. You stay here, I’ll be right back.” Jared turns and runs out the door before Jensen can protest.  
  
In this dimension, they don’t eat, not exactly, although some beings do, just for fun. It’s one of the many benefits of human avatars, although Jensen doesn’t really go for that sort of thing. It’s too messy, but he’s pretty sure that what passes for food around here is not the same thing as food in the human world, even if it looks similar. And certainly nothing that to give to a baby. So, he has no idea where Jared is going or how long it will take him.  
  
He looks around. He doesn’t know Jared very well, but the apartment suits him. The walls are dark… hard to say at this time of night, they might even be black, but they are covered with some sort of cloth. Blacks and purples, painted all over with symbols. Jensen moves in for a closer look, bouncing the baby on his hip, then startles back. The cloth is real. Like the baby. Corporeal.  
  
Jensen looks around in panic. There’s a mounted bird skeleton on the end table to his right. And that strange glow coming from the hallway? It’s a tank of some sort with living earthly plants in it. Mushrooms and mosses, and Jensen is sure he sees something moving around in there and he does not want to get close enough to find out what it is.  
  
He can’t breathe. Ok, he doesn’t really _need_ to breathe, but it’s a long-standing bad habit that he actually really loves. Humans aren’t wrong about _everything_. What the heck? Every square inch of this apartment violates ten different interdimensional health and safety codes, and it all should have burned down or disintegrated into a sizzling pile of decay long ago.  
  
And yet? Jared is one of the… Jensen can’t think of the right word, just this sense of being more _alive_ than everyone else Jensen knows. Jensen looks at the baby. Her hiccupping had slowed and now she just looks exhausted and bewildered, yet also so soft and fresh. Jensen can’t ever imagine the processes that are programmed into her, the slow march of morbidity and mortality. It’s unthinkable that this creature will ever age and corrupt, sicken and die. He pulls her a little closer, smooths the delicate whisper of hair she has over her forehead.  
  
Don’t get him wrong. He’s going to shower for a decade when he gets home, but this isn’t … terrible.  
  
Still, Jensen breathes as shallowly as he can, swaying gently with the baby in his arms until she falls asleep. Then, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid if he puts her down, she’ll wake up.  
  
He catches himself. He’s referring to the baby as a _she_ , not an _it_. When did that happen?  
  
And there isn’t anything that looks even remotely like a crib or whatever you put a baby in. So, he walks in slow circles around the living area, trying not to see all the things that should not, under any circumstances, be here.  
  
Forever later, there’s finally a noise at the door and Jared comes in, arms laden with an assortment of bewildering items that he dumps unceremoniously on the sofa.  
  
Jensen eyes the pile suspiciously. “How did you go human-side this time of night? That _is_ human stuff, right? Where did you—” Jensen shuts his abruptly, he’s woken the baby. He braces his mind for the scream, the cry, but it never comes. Instead, she gurgles and smiles up at him.  
  
“I know a guy,” Jared says vaguely. “Emptied out my bank account and called in nearly every favor I have coming to me, but here we are.”  
  
“Do you know what to do with all that?” Jensen asks.  
  
“Well, sort of. There’s this dude down the street who deals in human-market stuff, and he’s a bit of a buff… He didn’t know a lot about babies, but some. We’ll figure it out. I know she needs to drink this stuff… ‘formula,’” Jared says, holding up a can of powder and squinting at the label. “We need to add water and… yeah, we’ll figure it out.”  
  
Jensen is not so sure, but he follows Jared around, shushing and soothing the baby when she gets fussy, and offering his best guesses when the instructions on the formula aren’t clear. Jared has to run back out for a thermometer, because the label on the formula bottle has them so scared of burning the baby that they can’t agree on what’s too hot.  
  
Eventually, the baby seems satisfied and is sleeping on Jensen’s chest. He eases himself down on Jared’s sofa, trying not to think about how he’s pretty sure the blanket draped over the back is probably actually a Venetian funeral pall or something.  
  
Jared flops down in the armchair beside Jensen. It’s late and they both have work tomorrow. Jensen is exhausted, and he doesn’t even want to _think_ about their next steps.  
  
“We should probably give her a name,” Jared says tiredly.  
  
“That,” Jensen says, “is an extremely bad idea. You name it, you’ll get attached.”  
  
“Too late, I’ve already got one picked out. Beatrice. Like Dante’s Beatrice. That fits, right? We can call her ‘Bee’ for short.”  
  
Jensen is vaguely familiar with that fairy tale, but he still doesn’t think it’s a good idea. “Jared. You have to think this through. You cannot keep a baby here. You have no idea how to take care of it—” he handwaves Jared’s protests “— _almost_ no idea how to take care of it, and we have to go to work in five hours and we can’t stay here with a baby and what are you even going to do about the paperwork? Do you have any idea how many points Chaos division is probably racking up over this whole thing?”  
  
“Who cares about the Chaos division? What do they have to do with this?”  
  
“Well, a missing baby, that’s not according to Plan, and they’re going to be so far ahead…” Jensen trails off. Even as he’s saying it, he knows how stupid it sounds. This morning, that would have been a big deal. The big interoffice competition. Really, the only excitement in his life. But now? He looks down at the baby, at _Bee_ sleeping on his chest and realizes how much his perspective has changed in just the course of a day. Still. “We can’t keep her.” And don’t think he doesn’t notice how that “we” slipped in there.  
  
“Can’t we talk about this in the morning?” Jared asks. He stretches out, long and loose, diagonally in the chair. His shirt rides up a bit and Jensen sees an inky blackness snaking out over Jared’s skin. Tattoos? Jensen has the nonsensical urge to touch them, run his fingertips over that darkness, see if the skin feels different there.  
  
How far he’s come in the course of the day… he’s always had a germaphobic aversion to personnel from the Death department before. It’s always been a look but don’t touch sort of thing until this moment. He shakes his head slightly, dispersing these… unfamiliar urges.  
  
“In the morning, we have to go to work. So, that’s the first problem—what are we going to do with her while we’re at work? But that’s not really even what I am talking about. What are we going to _do_ about her?”  
  
Jared sits up, puts his elbows on his knees, and looks closer at Bee. “I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I didn’t think. All I know is that I couldn’t let her get deconned.”  
  
“We have to bring her back,” Jensen says, gently. He sees the way Jared is looking at Bee. Even after all that burping and diaper changing business.  
  
“But how? We can’t just drop her off at any old portal. She needs to get back to _her_ family.”  
  
“Well, you’re the one with all the connections, you tell me. Doesn’t someone in the dispatch office owe you a favor or something? Don’t you _know a guy?”_ Adding that last part in was a bit of a dig, Jensen knows, but he’s tired and punch drunk.  
  
Jared doesn’t seem to notice or take offense. “Well, even if I did know someone like that, I used up every last one of my favors getting all this stuff tonight. There’s going to be talk about it, even with all the hush money I spent. Going around asking for a master portal code would definitely raise suspicions.”  
  
“Well, walking into the office tomorrow carrying a live human baby is going to raise some suspicions as well. We need to think of something.”  
  
Jared gets up and starts pulling cushions off the chairs and the couch around Jensen. He lays them on the floor and spreads out the blanket he brought home for Bee. He gestures for Jensen to hand her over. Jensen watches in fascination as Jared carefully bundles her up tightly in the blanket. It’s something he’s seen humans do before, but not something he’d be able to replicate with ease like Jared just did. Without waking her, even.  
  
“We’ll figure it out. We figured this out, didn’t we?”  
  
Jensen has to admit, he never would have believed they could have gotten that screaming, wailing, incomplete human that he had first walked in on to settle down to sleep so peacefully like this. Jared stretches out on the floor next to her, stifling a yawn. “You can stay if you want,” he says sleepily.  
  
Jensen wants his own bed like fire. The sweet embrace of memory foam, the cool slide of the high-thread-count sheets over his skin. He wants to brush his teeth and do a meditation and, most of all, he wants to wake up and find that this has all been a bad dream.  
  
But does he really? He watches how Jared doesn’t take his eyes off Bee, even as his eyelids grow drowsy and start to fall closed. Parts of this dream aren’t so bad.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93933/93933_original.png)

  
There is not enough hot water in the world to fix what is wrong with Jensen’s back when he wakes up. He had only meant to close his eyes for a moment and then do the adult thing and stumble on home, but that thought lasted approximately one-tenth of a second. The next thing he knew, Jared was shaking him awake, asking him to give Bee her bottle while he went and showered.  
  
Now they’re all at Jensen’s place, because Jensen took one look at Jared’s bathroom and drew the line, and Jared said he wasn’t ready to be alone with Bee again yet and thank The Power for the shiatsu setting on his shower. Because otherwise, he would have just had to throw himself in the garbage disposal and start with a new avatar.  
  
Jared has fixed up an over-the-shoulder satchel to hide and carry Bee and, surprisingly, she _loves_ it in there. For his part, Jensen gutted his briefcase and now it’s bursting at the seams with diapers, butt lotion, and three bottles of formula posing as iced caramel macchiatos that will go in the breakroom fridge when he gets to work.  
  
Three pain relieving tablets later and Jensen is ready, Windsor knot tightened and briefcase full of Class-6 illegal human artifacts in hand. Jared is standing by the door looking like he’s ready for another day at the office, and Jensen wonders briefly if being that close to a living human really _is_ hazardous to your health because, honestly, both of them have lost their ever-infinite minds.  
  
He takes a deep breath. “Here we go then.”  
  
Jared grins. “Yep. Here we go.”

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93307/93307_original.png)

  
It’s possible that this many people stop Jensen in the way to his office every day, but it’s hard to believe. After three different people stop him to chit chat within the same ten-foot strip of hallway, he suddenly gets it. Normally, he’s not towing along with a six-foot-plus Goth walking sex symbol. Jensen has always thought of Jared as good looking before, but now he’s seeing him with new eyes, and seeing how people react to him with new eyes. Jared, of course, is oblivious. He is 100% focused on his satchel, and Jensen wonders why no one is noticing how he’s talking to his big man-purse.  
  
It takes them a full 12 minutes to get to Jensen’s office. They’re avoiding the Death Division, because Jared never filed his paperwork yesterday and they do _not_ want to get into that hornet’s nest. Just as they reach the safety of Jensen’s little windowless office, Jim Beaver, assistant to the Life Division manager, stops them at the door.  
  
“Jensen, a word please?”  
  
Jensen opens his office door and signals behind his back for Jared to go ahead in. He tries on an innocent face. “Yes, sir?”  
  
Mr. Beaver gives Jared a funny look over Jensen’s shoulder, as Jared is humming at his satchel and bouncing up and down slightly. “You… uh… your...” He gathers himself and looks down at the clipboard in his hand. “Ahem. Your paperwork is fine, everything looks in order, but your metric shows that you bridged _twice_ at one stop yesterday.”  
  
Well, shit. Bridging twice is just a mistake, not like a misdemeanor or anything but even if he doesn’t get written up for it he doesn’t want to draw attention to it either. The less eyes on this situation, the better. Best to just brush it off like no big deal.  
  
“Uh, yeah. Yes, sir. I accidentally bridged the wrong human, but luckily an agent from Death was there on the same job and it all worked out in the end. I didn’t think you’d want the error on the books. Sorry sir, I can revise—”  
  
Mr. Beaver interrupts, “Nah, you’re right. Number crunchers are on my butt, that’s all.”  
  
“Never stop, do they?” Jensen says with a forced laugh. He’s trying not to be distracted by Jared, who has maneuvered himself out of Mr. Beaver’s line of sight and is frantically trying to mouth some words that Jensen can’t catch. He seems to think the sign language he’s throwing in there might help, but he’s really, extremely wrong about that.  
  
“…and you should see the numbers Chaos is putting up lately. They had a spike yesterday, I swear they’re up to something. Those ball-scratching idjits do half the work and get twice the paparazzi, know what I mean?”  
  
“Uh, yes, sir, and speaking of work, I really have to get—”  
  
“Mr… Beaver is it?” Jared has launched himself back into the hallway, hand out and disarming smile fully locked and loaded.  
  
Mr. Beaver looks slightly alarmed, but he takes Jared’s hand anyway.  
  
“Yes, son. Nice to meet you. Jared, from Death, right?”  
  
Jensen tries doing that in through the nose and out through the mouth breathing thing that humans do to calm down. Why is Jared dragging this out? They need to get rid of Beaver, and get down to figuring out how to get Bee back to the hospital, with her family.  
  
“Yes sir, and I was hoping I could ask you a favor. You see, _I_ was the agent who covered for Jensen’s little mistake yesterday, no big deal, but in the confusion, I dropped a time canister. I need to get back there, but my boss—Mr. Morgan… he’s a real stickler for the rules, and it’s just such a little thing… is there any way…?”  
  
Ohhhhh.  
  
Mr. Beaver rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he mutters, but Jensen knows he’ll do it. He’s just glad Jared had the nerve to ask. Jensen is more of a keep-your-head-down and stay-out-of-trouble type.  
  
Jared flashes Jensen a grin and a thumbs up when Mr. Beaver is fishing through his pockets for his hand-held.  
  
“Okay,” Mr. Beaver says, tapping some numbers in on the screen. “This is a burner portal, in and out, no nonsense, understand?”  
  
“Absolutely, sir,” Jared answers with a look of such professional innocence that Jensen suddenly can understand how he smuggled half an apartment of human artifacts past security over the years. No one would ever believe this is the face of someone with a baby in his satchel. Not in a million eternities.  
  
They transfer the code onto Jared’s device and Mr. Beaver turns to leave. “Oh, and son? Go to the bathroom or something. Holding it isn’t good for you and bouncing around like that doesn’t fix anything.”  
  
Jensen can’t close his office door fast enough. “Okay, so perfect. We go in, drop her off, get out, end of story, right?”  
  
Jared nods. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” But now he’s got Bee out of the satchel, holding her against his chest, and gently kisses the top of her head. She gurgles and coos and grabs a fistful of his shirt and stuffs it in her mouth. Jensen watches with horror as her drool soaks through Jared’s shirt. It’s one thing to hold her and feed her and change her diapers, you can always wash your hands after that. But Jared is going to have to walk around in that shirt all day.  
  
“What is it with you?” Jensen asks. “What’s with the fascination? All that—” he glances at the door and lowers his voice, “— _contraband_ at your house? You know that stuff can kill you.” He rolls his eyes when Jared looks like he’s about to protest. “Or at the very least get you in a universe of trouble. What makes it worth it? What’s so great about… about that stuff… about… _her?”_  
  
Jared doesn’t answer right away, which endears him to Jensen. Jared’s impulsive nature makes Jensen nervous. But now, he really seems to be considering how to answer Jensen’s question.  
  
“They _change_ ,” Jared says at last. He looks up at Jensen and pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I mean, there wasn’t ever a time when I wasn’t me, the way I am right now. This body. But look at her. Think about what she will become. She’s already more alert than she was yesterday when she was first born.”  
  
“Well, that’s how humans work,” Jensen answers.  
  
“It’s _amazing_ ,” Jared says.  
  
“It’s _weird_ ,” Jensen counters.  
  
“So? Weird doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. Don’t you ever get tired of everything being the same all the time? That’s why we need to do that stupid shit like inter-office competitions… otherwise we’d notice that we’re just punching the clock day after day for eternity. It’s so freaking _boring_. But it’s not like that for Bee, or other humans. You and I have always, well, for the last few eternities anyway, been like _this_.” He gestures towards their avatars. But not humans. They start out like this, and well, you’ve seen them grow and change and they’re never the same at the end. Imagine going through all that.”  
  
“You’re talking about decay.”  
  
“So? Call it what you want, but it’s something we’ll never be able to experience. When was the last time you ever learned something new? When was the last time you had an emotion that wasn’t related to how mind-numbingly boring your job is? Bee is going to fall in love, and get her heart broken and feel elation and grief, and those are things that I wish—” Jared catches Jensen staring at him. He heaves a deep sigh. “I just think it’s cool.”  
  
“Well, you’re going to have to think it’s cool from a distance, because we have to get her back, and now there’s nothing stopping us.” Jensen holds up his device with the code. “Let’s go.”  
  
Jared takes a moment to wrap Bee up more securely in her blanket. “Yeah, I know you’re right. Just give me a minute.”  
  
It’s hard for Jensen to really feel what Jared is feeling about the baby, but it’s not hard to feel something about _Jared_ in this moment. It’s not just the tender way Jared is holding Bee, gently rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, it’s also everything he said. Who even _thinks_ of stuff like that? Who would ever imagine being interested in that? Jensen has never really thought about it before. To be fair, the word _before_ is meaningless for him, because it’s always _now_ and it’s always the same. But for the first time in his existence, Jared is making him think about how things could be different. What that would be like.  
  
He gives Jared a few minutes. Watches him the whole time and manages for a few moments to forget about the ticking time bomb of a schedule they’re on to return the human to the world where she belongs.  
  
Finally, Jared takes a deep breath and kisses Bee on the forehead before settling her back into his satchel. She makes a sleepy little coo and raises a tiny fist toward him, and he gives her his finger for a moment, then zips up the bag.  
  
“Okay,” he says at last. “we’d better go.”  
  
Things go smoother than Jensen could have hoped for. No one notices Jared’s gurgling, wiggling satchel, maybe because he’s let his truform show as a distraction. It is really hard to look away from those antlers. They’re massive. Even Jensen can’t resist surreptitiously touching the leathery black webbing of Jared’s wing.  
  
No alarms go off, no security personnel raise any eyebrows. When the doors finally slide closed behind them in the mini decon universe, Jensen lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  
  
“Hey, Jensen. It’s going to be okay. This whole thing is almost over. You can do this.” Jared looks as calm as a butterfly on a stone. “You ready?”  
  
There’s really no reason for both of them to go, but neither of them questions it. They step through the portal and back into the hospital room where it all started.  
  
It takes Jensen a moment to realize their mistake. He’s thinking _wow, they’ve all calmed down a lot since we were here last_ when it hits him. It’s not the same woman. He looks frantically around the room. It’s not even the same nurses or the same husband… nothing is the same.  
  
He turns to Jared, but Jared is rummaging around in a nurses’ cart, stuffing diapers and tubes of lotion and cans of formula in his satchel on top of a laughing Bee as carefully as he can. The whole thing is so comically confusing that if Jensen didn’t know better, he’d have bet good money that Misha set this whole thing up.  
  
Time. He forgot about _time_. He simply forgot that time would have been passing in the human world and that the portal wouldn’t lead them right back to when the whole thing started. It’s not like he’s ever revisited a job before, but he does feel pretty stupid for not thinking of it.  
  
“Just leave her!” he hisses at Jared.  
  
“This isn’t her family!” Jared shouts back at him. “We can’t! Grab some stuff!”  
  
Jensen is too disoriented to make a logical choice, so he reaches out and grabs the closest thing to hand and darts back through the portal just as it’s closing.  
  
And finds himself face to face with none other than that imp from Chaos, Misha Collins.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94013/94013_original.png)

  
Jared tries to swing the satchel around behind his back, but just as he does, Bee lets out an ear-splitting wail. Probably all the inter-dimensional time travel, or maybe the flotsam of baby supplies that Jared shoved on top of her; whatever it is, she is _not_ happy.  
  
“I knew it!” Misha crows. “All this chaos and no one in the division claiming credit? Someone was bound to notice. That someone being me, of course.”  
  
“Did you set us up?” Jensen shouts. He’s tired. He’s cranky and confused and his back feels like someone has been skipping rope with his spinal column from sleeping on Jared’s floor last night and he is _not_ in the mood for Mishananigans.  
  
“No, just here for the show. And to take credit for the chaos, of course. I never would have dreamed that making you late for that bridge yesterday would pay off like this, but here we are.”  
  
Jared has been busy extracting Bee from underneath the pile of contraband he shoved on top of her. He lifts her out carefully and holds her to his chest with one hand, while fishing around in the satchel for a bottle with the other.  
  
“And you,” Jensen says, turning to Jared. “Did you know about this? Was this all an elaborate trick to get back there and grab more baby gear? Because you could have left me out of that little escapade, thank you very much.”  
  
“Wha—? No, Jensen, no. I just—”  
  
“Can I see her?” Misha asks.  
  
That stops Jensen short. Misha’s voice has gone all soft and serious, and he’s looking at Bee kind of the same way Jared does. And Jared? He’s looking like he gave birth to her himself, all proud and possessive. He clearly doesn’t know Misha.  
  
Or does he? Are the two of them in on it together? Jensen narrows his eyes and watches them.  
  
“I’ve never seen one this close up before. I mean, we sponsor unexpected pregnancies and surprise triplets all the time, but that’s more a paperwork sort of job.” Misha somehow instinctively has adapted the quiet, soothing voice necessary for calming Bee. Very suspicious. He’s right. Health and Safety won’t let Chaos agents within 50 light years of actual human children, never mind babies.  
  
But Jared doesn’t seem to notice. “Isn’t she _amazing_?” he whispers.  
  
A small ember of something ugly and embarrassing is kindling inside Jensen. Up until now, this has been their little secret. He knows it’s petty, but he doesn’t like seeing Jared share it so easily with someone else, especially Misha.  
  
Aw, to heck with them both. He’s going to go hole up in his office and dig out of the enormous backlog of paperwork he’s been ignoring since yesterday. Jared got himself into this crazy mess, he can get himself out. Jensen hits the button to open the mini decon universe chamber. He’s got better things to do with his—  
  
“Hey!” Jared shouts and Jensen whirls around. As he does, Misha darts behind him and out the door.  
  
“Wh—” Jensen starts, but Jared isn’t listening.  
  
Jared has shrugged off his avatar altogether and is running in full trueform, wings extended like an oncoming storm hellbent for Misha. He’s truly a terrifying sight and anyone but Misha would have dropped the…  
  
Bee. Misha has Bee.  
  
Jensen grabs Jared’s satchel and quickly stuffs in the few artifacts that had fallen outThe transfer station is in complete, well, chaos. Alarms are blaring, people are screaming, running, or cowering under benches. Somehow, a drove of gravity hares have infiltrated the place and are hopping all over the walls.  
  
It’s easy to spot the Chaos agents, because they’re the ones grinning like hatters and taking selfies. Jared may be huge and terrifying, but he’s no match for a horde of bedlam junkies like these. He’s tripped and misdirected and falls in and out of two wormholes before he gives up. Misha has disappeared and, along with him, Bee.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93933/93933_original.png)

  
Jensen’s apartment is cold and has a weird empty feeling like no one has lived there for a while, even though he and Jared and Bee were just there this morning. He looks in the fridge, but all that he finds is some distilled water and three stalks of lemongrass that he doesn’t remember buying. He thinks about getting into the shower, but it’s literally only been a few hours and that seems pointless. It’s too early in the day to go to bed, and he sure as hell can’t go back to work.  
  
He’s hidden the satchel and everything in it in a small singularity in the back of his closet, but not before noticing briefly that it still smells like her—a combination of milky sweetness and baby shampoo. He pretends that doesn’t do anything to him, because he is D-O-N-E with this business.  
  
He’s not sure what he’ll do when Jared eventually knocks on the door. In all the confusion, Jensen had lost sight of him, and the satchel was making him nervous, hanging around his neck like a giant tell-tale… bag of baby gear. He’d been too mad to think of doing anything aside from going home, but now that he’s here, it doesn’t feel like the right decision. So, he bangs around, at loose ends with nothing to do but let his thoughts spin.  
  
Clearly, Jared and Misha weren’t in on it together. Jensen would never forget the anguished look on Jared’s face as he ran by. And that’s just it. Jensen has known all along how fond Jared was of Bee, but that look was something more, something deeper. At the very least, it’s possible that Jared never intended to return Bee at all, and the whole thing was a ruse to get a no-fail ticket to the place where he knew he could grab more supplies.  
  
The part Jensen doesn’t get is why Jared had to drag him along for the whole stupid thing. Every hour he has spent in Jared’s presence has increased his own chances of getting fired or de-existed. And now? He’s got a bag of toxic contraband in his closet, they’ve lost the baby, and Jensen is pretty sure that Jared isn’t done with him yet.  
  
He wishes Jared would knock on the door already and get it over with.  
  
Score one point for the Wish Department, because no sooner does Jensen think it than it happens. He opens the door ready to tear Jared a new one.  
  
What he sees stops him before one word can leave his lips. Gone are the fearsome antlers and formidable wings. The avatar that stands on Jensen’s doorstep is as human as they get. Jared wears such a look of such sadness, such despair, that Jensen just holds his arms out. This is something he’s literally never done before and he hopes he’s doing it right. Jared seems to understand and steps into Jensen’s outstretched arms, head down.  
  
“I lost Misha,” he whispers into Jensen’s shoulder. “I lost _her._ ”  
  
All the arguments and accusations Jensen had been rehearsing in his head while he waited wither and fade away. “We’ll find her. We will.” He wraps one arm around Jared and pushes the door shut with the other. Jared’s heartbeat is rapid and close against Jensen’s chest, his breath hitching and erratic.  
  
“Alright,” Jensen says. “Enough of that. Get on in here and tell me what happened, and we’ll figure out what to do. I have tea.”  
  
Jensen does not, in fact, have tea, but he debits his materialization account and makes some, because that seems to be what this situation calls for. He gets Jared settled down at the table and puts a hot mug in his hand. The scent of ginger and lemon wafts around them and Jared breathes in deep.  
  
“How did he know?” Jared asks. “He was _waiting_ for us there, to ambush us.”  
  
“You’re not exactly inconspicuous,” Jensen says, and then instantly regrets it. It’s not Jared’s fault, and even if it was, now is not the time to be heaping on the guilt. “Listen, those guys in Chaos are in bed all the time with Luck agents, and the Random department is always on the take. The deck was stacked against y… us. Don’t beat yourself up.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is; all that matters is that she’s gone, and now we’ll never get her back where she belongs. If all that stuff you say is true, we’re screwed. And I don’t care how many connections Misha has, those people aren’t going to help him take care of a baby. He has no idea what he’s doing. You heard what he said, he’s never even _seen_ one before.”  
  
This same thought had occurred to Jensen. He takes a sip of tea to buy himself some time when something Jared had said catches his attention.  
  
_And now we’ll never get her back where she belongs._ Guilt washes over Jensen. Jared didn’t care about getting Bee back for himself. He really _didn’t_ set them up, he really _did_ want to get her back to that hospital room. It was just stupid on both of their parts to not realize Bee’s mother would have been moved out of the birthing suite by then.  
  
“Listen, Misha is a shit, but he’s also cocky and a show off. He doesn’t care as much about the points as he does playing the game. He’s not going to keep her hidden and just let accounting credit his account. He’s going to want to cat and mouse this thing. His overconfidence is going to be his downfall. You’ll see.”  
  
“She isn’t a game piece!” Jared yells. “She is a living being! What if he—”  
  
“Misha is _not_ going to let anything happen to her. She’s too valuable to him. If she… if she…” Jensen doesn’t want to put it to words and make things worse with Jared, but there’s no delicate way to put it, “…dies, she’s no good to Misha, and that may sound really harsh, but it’s what’s going to keep her safe, so we have to go with that.”  
  
Jared is not pacified. “I know he wouldn’t intentionally let anything happen to her, but he just doesn’t know anything about babies and—”  
  
“We didn’t either, and we figured it out. Besides, Chaos is what rules the world of babies. Misha is probably up to his neck in it and loving it. He’s a good guy, as much as it pains me to admit it.”  
  
“He _stole_ a baby.”  
  
“So did we!”  
  
Jared throws his hands in the air. “Not on purpose!”  
  
“True, but we are no more qualified to take care of Bee than he is, and we managed to keep her alive through last night. He’ll do fine for one night, and we will make this right tomorrow, I promise.”  
  
“So, you don’t know where he lives?”  
  
“No idea. I think we’re just going to have to wait him out until he tips his hand. I don’t think it will be long.”  
  
“She’ll be okay? You promise?”  
  
It feels like a very steep promise to make, but what else can Jensen do? Jared looks so miserable, and all Jensen wants to do is make him feel better. “She’ll be okay.” He realizes as he’s saying it that it’s as important to him that it be true as it is to Jared.  
  
It’s possible that Jared wants to believe it as much as Jensen does, or maybe it’s just that they are at a dead end for now, but he lets out a deep breath and nods his head. Jared rubs his face and looks out the window. It’s starting to get dark out, the streetlights competing with the moon. “I’d better head home. Thanks for the tea.”  
  
Earlier in the day, when Jared and Misha were sharing that moment of mutual admiration over Bee, Jensen had felt something like… like he and Jared were part of something together, and Misha was a splinter; something that didn’t belong. Now that it’s just the two of them again, the thought of breaking up their little… something, gives him an achy, panicky feeling in his chest. Like Jared makes him aware of things inside himself he never considered before, and he’s not ready to let that go, even for a night.  
  
“Or,” Jensen says, casually tracing the whorls in the bamboo tabletop, “you could stay here.” Jared doesn’t answer right away, so Jensen throws in, “I have an amazing shower.”  
  
“You had me at ‘or,’” Jared laughs. “I was just trying to think of who I was going to get to feed my beetles.”  
  
“Your… beetles,” Jensen says. He doesn’t phrase it as a question, because he really doesn’t want to know. Just look where getting involved with Bee has gotten him; compared to that, knowledge of a few illicit insects probably isn’t going to make that much of a difference. At least, Jensen is 99% sure they are talking about the insects… The Power save them all if Jared has John and George hidden in his closet somewhere.  
  
Jared doesn’t seem to notice how Jensen definitely does not want to know about it, and Jensen has a hard time sticking to that line, because Jared’s face is all lit up and animated and that right there is _exactly_ why he got mixed up in all this.  
  
“Yeah, you remember the tanks in my apartment, right? Well, the snails and millipedes will be fine, but the beetles really need fresh food all the time. It’s ok, Sandy from the bookstore can probably find something for them.”  
  
“Jared, did you think… did you think taking care of a baby was going to be like taking care of… bugs? Is that why you took her home?”  
  
“No! Well, I mean, I took her home because I didn’t want you to incinerate her, but I guess there was a part of me that thought it would be fun. Part of me that thought I could do it.”  
  
“Do you have any sense of how dangerous this all is? I get it. She’s precious and all, but all that human stuff is illegal for a reason. You of all people should understand—”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean, _you of all people’?”_  
  
“ _You_. An agent of Death. Do you have any idea how hard I have to work to keep things alive? And what’s the point? You get them in the end, every time. They’re weak. They're diseased. They age and decay and rot and _die._ You see it every day. How can you even _think_ about exposing yourself to that stuff?”  
  
“Is that what you think of me? Of us?” Jared asks, his voice low and rough.  
  
“What, about the Death Division? No, of course not. I didn’t mean _you_ were, you know, diseased and stuff, just the things you reap.”  
  
“We _don’t_ call it reaping, you know that.”  
  
“Why not? It’s what you do.” Jensen can feel himself sliding into deeper trouble, but he can’t seem to get his feet under himself. It’s been a long and trying day.  
  
Jared stares at him, hard. “Do you even know what I _actually_ do? What the _correct_ term for it is?  
  
“Well… uh, you gather, right? Tidy up all the…ehm… spiritual…” The only words Jensen can think of are _leftovers, droppings, trash._ But he knows that’s not right. He realizes he doesn’t truly know what Jared does. Just like his job is a lot more complicated than simply “prolonging life,” Jared’s job is probably a lot more subtle and intricate as well. Jensen hadn’t ever really thought about it before. The look on Jared’s face tells him before he says a word that he’s way off base here.  
  
“What do you see when you look at my trueform?” Jared asks.  
  
The question throws Jensen for a moment. That is not where he expected this conversation to go.  
  
“Come on. You’ve seen it enough in the past few days. What do you see?” Jared doesn’t look mad, exactly. More like the whole reaper thing is a stereotype he’s long since gotten used to tolerating, but he’s disappointed that he has to explain it to Jensen, too.  
  
“Well,” Jensen searches for a way to put it delicately. These things are usually private. A sensitive subject. Jensen certainly does not want to talk about how _his_ trueform manifests, which is as a white Hindu cow, and he doesn’t understand why Jared would want to get into this either.  
  
“Go on,” Jared prompts. “You’ve already made an ass of yourself. You can’t really make it all that much worse.  
  
“It’s a… mixture. You’ve got the wings and antlers of course, but other parts keep changing. Like yesterday when you were chasing Misha, you had fangs. And there’s other things that… I didn’t recognize.”  
  
“Want to see my _true_ trueform?”  
  
Jared has risen out of his chair, and although Jensen still doesn’t think he’s mad, he takes a step back away.  
  
“Jared, you don’t need to—”  
  
But then he sees it. There’s a brief glimpse of the trueform that Jensen’s avatar is used to perceiving, and then… then it transforms into something else entirely. Jensen can’t put words to it because it’s changing faster than his thoughts can follow. It’s a kaleidoscope of energy and power, swirling around with some elements of time mixed in there, and it’s _beautiful._ It fits Jared perfectly; dark, but with splashes of brightness hidden within its depths. It sparks the same unfamiliar curiosity in Jensen that he’s been feeling towards Jared. It makes him want to reach out and touch it; something not only physically impossible, but also incredibly intimate.  
  
“What… what is that?” Jensen asks, even though he knows what it is. It’s Jared. It’s what he is, it’s what he does.  
  
“It’s _Change_. That’s my nature. You’ve been thinking about Death as an end. A snuffing out of light and life. But it’s not. We call what we do ‘transitioning,’ not reaping. Please think about that the next time you let that word slip. Show some respect.”  
  
Then he’s back to Jared, Jared as his human avatar with his hair falling over his storm cloud eyes, chest rising and falling with emotion. Jensen feels about two inches tall. An apology seems to be the thing to do, but he’s overwhelmed. Gasping with truth. “Jared, I—”  
  
The humor returns to Jared’s face. “You’re white as a sheet,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just sometimes I get sick of—”  
  
“You didn’t scare me. That was just, wow. I wasn’t expecting…” Jensen waves a hand around at Jared helplessly, “… _that._ ”  
  
“Come on. You were a little scared.” Jared moves in closer. Not menacingly, but Jensen is a little cowed, nonetheless.  
  
“I was _not.”_ Truth be told, he’s a little turned on.  
  
“Then prove it,” Jared taunts, stepping a little closer.  
  
Jensen takes the bait. He steps in and kisses Jared. Jensen has tried kissing before, yet never really got the point of it. But this? Everything clicks. The moment his mouth touches Jared’s. he’s hooked. The way Jared opens up his mouth to him, all needy; the way Jared groans when Jensen grabs his hips and pulls him close. Jensen may not be super experienced, but Jared makes it easy to know what to do.  
  
These past two days, it’s been like there’s a storm brewing around Jared. A low hum of electricity that Jensen felt twitching along his nerves, but couldn’t put his finger on. This is the lightning bolt. The release feels so good that it immediately sends an alarm through Jensen.  
  
Jensen pulls back. Jared may be all about _change,_ but he is not. His nature is to prolong the status quo. Keep people in the state they were in; i.e., _alive_. Allowing himself to slide into this new thing with Jared? Despite how amazing it feels, it is _terrifying._  
  
“It’s late,” he says when Jared tries to pull him back in. “You can stay here, but…” He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t explain how on the one hand, seeing the way Jared is lit up is turning him inside out, and on the other hand, his heart is screaming at him to slam on the brakes.  
  
“But what?” Jared asks. He’s gentle, curious. Not defensive.  
  
“I just… why don’t we, uh… focus on getting Bee back for now. One crazy thing at a time, okay?”  
  
Jared puts his forehead down on Jensen’s. “Okay. If that’s what you need, that’s okay.” He looks around, then dubiously asks, “The sofa?”  
  
Jensen’s sofa is really more decorative than anything. It looks like it might be big enough for Jared’s left shin to sleep comfortably, but not much more of him than that. Jensen heaves a big sigh. “Come sleep in my bed. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” He throws his hands up in exasperation and turns to go fluff the bedroom, grumbling about humans and beetles and how he’s probably going to be permanently discorporated tomorrow anyway, so what does it matter?  
  
He doesn’t know what he expected, like maybe Jared would sleep way over on the other side of the bed, sort of with his head on his own pillow, and maybe the blankets would sort of drape down between them and form a little wall or something? But with Jared, there are no “sides” of the bed. He strips down to his boxers and tee shirt without shame, and crawls in between the sheets, and his hands find just the right spots under Jensen to wrap around him and pull him in close and tight. He tangles their legs together like they’ve been doing this all their lives and Jensen is too surprised to resist and, besides, it feels really good, so he lays there, trying not to be too stiff.  
  
It doesn’t take long for it to feel more… okay. Jared is warm and almost asleep, and Jensen gradually begins to accept that nothing bad is about to happen to him. He thinks about the promise he made to Jared, that Bee would be okay, tries to imagine what Misha is doing right now at this very moment. His waking imagination fails him, but his dreaming mind reaches out to Bee and strengthens her bridge. Makes it so strong that nothing anyone could do, or fail to do, could hurt her.  
  
In his sleep, Jensen settles into Jared’s embrace and their heartbeats sync, both of them dreaming about Bee.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93307/93307_original.png)

  
When Jensen wakes up, Jared is still sleeping. He muses that this one change—waking up buried under a mound of sweaty Death agent—isn’t the worst thing that ever happened to him, so he risks kissing Jared lightly on his neck before extracting himself and hopping in the shower.  
  
Has he mentioned before how much he loves this shower? Jensen closes his eyes and lets the hot water wash over him. Like a fresh start. He’s going to stand here under this water until he feels good and ready to face the day.  
  
“Mind if I join you?”  
  
Jensen is so startled, he briefly leaves his avatar. Just an inch or so to the right, but still.  
  
Jared’s avatar is doing its best to look decidedly human, with his hair mashed up on one side and flopped in his eyes on the other. He’s squinting in the bright morning light, and his voice is slurry and sleep-roughened.  
  
Jensen is completely at a loss. This is _his_ space. And Jared is just… naked. He _himself_ is naked. It feels like a planet has jumped out of its well-ordered orbit and decided to join another.  
  
Jared mistakes his stunned silence for non-verbal consent and steps into the water, eyes still not completely open, and turns his face up towards the source. It gives Jensen a chance to try and gain his composure. Well. It would if it didn’t also give him the chance to look at Jared without him noticing. Those tattoos he saw a hint of the other night? They cover the flat stretch of Jared’s abdomen and curl around the back, snaking around his muscled frame like black ink dropped into still water. The urge to reach out and touch him is so strong, but there is seriously a very strong possibility that to Jared, walking naked into another man’s shower is not an invitation, but rather just something he might casually do because… well because he’s Jared.  
  
With his eyes closed, Jared doesn’t realize the effect he’s having on Jensen. “Wow, this is amazing,” he says. “Mine doesn’t have any pressure to speak of.” Water streams into his mouth as he speaks. He turns to Jensen and water burbles between his lips as he closes them. When his eyes open, they do that thing that they did that first day in the portal, like he can see right through Jensen. No, not through him, _into_ him.  
  
He kissed Jared last night. They slept all night, breathing the same air, and it’s okay, Jensen didn’t spontaneously combust or anything. He reaches out and traces the inky outline of a crow on Jared’s stomach. “Is this… are these real? Or do they just come with the avatar?”  
  
“Half and half,” Jared answers, fingers over Jensen’s. “That one is real. From the shop below my apartment.”  
  
Jared brings his hand to Jensen’s face. “You look beautiful. You should see the droplets on your eyelashes.” He kisses Jensen then, ducking his head just slightly to bring their mouths together. The water on Jared’s lips is familiar and reassuring to Jensen, sweet and clean. So Jensen goes harder for more of it, tasting Jared’s mouth, licking the water from his lips, biting his jaw gently, wanting to know everything about how Jared feels in his mouth, how he reacts under Jensen’s searching hands.  
  
Jared is pressed up hard against Jensen’s hip, gently pushing, letting his cock slide over Jensen’s wet skin. Jensen holds his palm against it, guiding Jared up against his own hip, then falling back against the wall when it’s too much. Jared takes over, mouth everywhere on Jensen, his lips, his eyelids, his neck, biting Jensen’s shoulder as he pushes up against him.  
  
Through it all, Jensen has that same fight or flight terror, like he is not supposed to be this okay with walking on the edge of something that feels like it’s going to swallow him up and change him forever, but he can’t stop. Or, more specifically he can’t bring himself to ask Jared to stop. Can’t bring himself all the way to _wanting_ Jared to stop.  
  
“You okay?” Jared asks him, looking straight into Jensen’s eyes.  
  
There is no space between them for lies, so Jensen says. “I don’t know,” but offers his mouth to Jared anyway, to show him that he thinks Jared can make it okay.  
  
Jared rocks them up against the wall harder then, like he’s trying to press them into the same space. His long fingers hold them together, and every time the head of Jensen’s cock slides through those knuckles, his knees give a little until it’s just Jared’s weight that keeps him upright against the wall.  
  
Still, Jared keeps stroking them, pulling Jensen closer and closer to the edge along with him, until Jensen doesn’t know where the edge is anymore. Where the intense pleasure he feels stops and Jared begins.  
  
“It’s okay,” Jared whispers in his ear, lips close and words wet, “you can let go. It’s okay, I got you. I got you.”  
  
That does it for Jensen. He comes for Jared, spilling over his hand, hot even compared to the water that washes them clean. Jared keeps true to his promise, holding Jensen up by the small of his back, pressing them together so tight, there’s no room for Jensen to fall.  
  
“I got you.”

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94013/94013_original.png)

  
This morning, Jensen feels somehow much, much more conspicuous walking into work next to Jared, even though they aren’t walking in with a class 7b biohazard stuffed in a satchel today. For one thing, Jensen cannot help but think that everyone can tell _exactly_ how they started their day, and for another, even if they can’t, there’s _something_ going on. He catches people looking at him and quickly looking away, whispering behind their hands.  
  
There’s no sign of Misha anywhere, which is _not_ a good sign. Jensen had expected to enter the building and see signs of Misha’s presence everywhere; harried interns, jammed photocopiers, harassed-looking security guards, that sort of thing. But it’s just a regular day at the office.  
Or so it seems until they turn down the corridor that leads to the Life and Death wing. Both Mr. Morgan and Mr. Beaver are waiting for them, and neither of them looks like they’ve had a good start to _their_ days.  
  
“You’re fired,” they say in unison.  
  
Jensen is not surprised, but it still hurts. They have been trying like crazy to do the right thing here, and their good intentions are not paying off, not even a little.  
  
Jared, inexplicably, appears to be completely caught off guard. “What?” he gasps. “Why?”  
  
Mr. Beaver rolls his eyes and looks at his watch. Mr. Morgan looks like he is ready to go off and spare no detail. Jensen eyes the digital display next to the entrance to the Life and Death wing. As expected, there was a huge spike in the Chaos department’s numbers yesterday and Natural Order is tanking. The tags scroll by pretty fast, but two catch his eye. Because they have his and Jared’s name on them.  
  
There was a noticeable blip when they got fired. Interesting. He wouldn’t have guessed they would have had that much effect.  
  
Meanwhile, Mr. Morgan is carrying on, “—and what’s this business Beaver is telling me about Time canisters? You didn’t check out any canisters. So either you had them illegally and you lost them, which for your sake had better not be the case, or you lied to Jim, which _also,_ for your sake, I hope is not the case. Because either way, I want to kick your punk asses all the way to the curb, but Human Resources has informed me that I may not do so, so you had better hope I don’t think up something much more creative that they haven’t thought far enough ahead to make a rule against yet. And another thing—”  
  
Jensen gives Mr. Beaver an imploring look, but he just shakes his head and gestures to the floor behind him, where Jensen sees all his personal belongings stuffed into a box, ready to go.  
  
“Nothing I could do, kid,” he says. “Guilty by association, and Jeff hasn’t even gotten warmed up yet. I don’t know _what_ you two idiots got up to yesterday, but I can tell by the looks on your faces that _you_ know _exactly_ what you’ve done to deserve this, and it’s probably twice as bad as what you’re letting on.”  
  
Jensen tries to casually reach up and cover the mark that Jared sucked into his neck. Which is stupid, because Mr. Beaver could give a crap less about their personal lives. He’s probably already seen it, and the fact that Jensen slept with someone from the Death department is the _least_ of his worries at this point.  
  
Specifically, how the heck are they going to find Misha and get Bee back if they can’t even get into the building?  
  
At that moment, Jensen hears an unmistakable noise. Unmistakable to him anyway. It’s Bee’s gurgling little happy noises. He looks around. So does Mr. Beaver. Mr. Morgan even pauses to look around, confused, then take a breath and start in again.  
  
Jared meets Jensen’s eye and they nod a silent agreement. They’re already fired, what more could they do to them?  
  
“So sorry, Mr. Morgan, you’re right. I did all that, and more. I’ll show myself out before I bring any more dishonor on you and the department… so sorry!” Jared grabs his cardboard tote off the floor and takes off, Jensen only half a step behind him.  
  
It’s easy to find Misha and Bee, because they are not trying to hide at all. Misha has Bee dressed up in some sort of furry little outfit, like a… bear? A lamb? Jensen isn’t sure if it’s a real animal at all. The point is that it’s a stupid disguise and for some reason, people are buying it hook, line, and sinker.  
  
“Hey, Guys,” Misha says casually as they run up, boxes in hand. He tickles Bee under the chin and she gives him a wet, toothless smile. “What do you think? Is furry her color?”  
  
“Misha, what are you _doing_?” Jensen hisses. “Are you _trying_ to get her deconned?”  
  
“Relax, look around. Do you see anyone getting suspicious?” Misha frowns. “A bit disappointing, really. I thought for sure I’d get more points out of this.”  
  
He’s right. Besides the few stares they got for running through the station, no one is paying them much attention at all. It’s such a disconnect between this real, actual threatening human emergency versus all the Health and Safety training and emergency drills and exposure analysis reports that he’s had to fill out over the centuries. He looks at Jared and Misha, standing there making faces at Bee and trying to get her to smile, as if she weren’t more or less a glowing bundle of toxic decay.  
  
To be fair, he gets it. She is precious, and once his initial gut instinct aversion passed, she elicited a protective response deep within him. But how was this all possible? Why weren’t they getting sick? Why had nothing caught fire or blown up or turned to dust? He does a mini internal metaphysical exam on himself. Aside from being a little off kilter vis-à-vis his new situation with Jared, he is perfectly fine. He looks around. The whole universe is perfectly fine. Why? How?  
  
Jensen shakes his head. It doesn’t matter. Misha is going to give them the baby now, and then they’re going to… they’ll just… well, crap. What are they going to do? They got fired five minutes ago. No more access to portals.  
  
“Misha, you have to send her back.” Jensen tries to sound firm, like he’s in command. Like he’s not standing there with 40 centuries worth of memories crammed into a disposable tote and no back up plan.  
  
“What? No way. She might not be causing a lot of chaos here, but over there? Did you know that she’s the daughter of an American diplomat? It’s causing an international incident. She is my golden ticket. She’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her. She’s perfectly safe here. You can see that. And you, of all people, know she’s probably _safer_ here than she is back there.”  
  
It’s probably true, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not right. She belongs with her family. In the human world.  
  
“You can’t just—”  
  
“Jensen? Jared? You two need to get your butts down to HR right this instant. There’s a couple of things that need explaining, and I can’t _wait_ to hear what you have to say.” It’s Pellegrino from accounting. Jared and Jensen both instinctively step in front of Misha and Bee. Jensen gives Jared a little double take. Personally, he’s always found Pellegrino to be kind of a creep, he’s glad Jared has the same gut instinct.  
  
“We’re kind of in the middle of something right now,” Jensen says. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Misha sneaking off behind their backs. “Can’t we do it tomorr—”  
  
“No. You cannot. I’ve got a quota to fill and if I was going to make an exception for anyone, it wouldn’t be for you two jackholes.”  
  
Glancing over his shoulder, Jensen sees Misha disappearing through the lobby doors. They’ve lost him again. “What are you going to do, fire us again?” Jensen grumbles miserably.  
  
“Actually, yes, we need to get all that paperwork done eventually,” Jared says suddenly. “Yes. Might as well get it over with now, _right,_ Jensen?”  
  
He has no idea what Jared is up to, but Jared gives him this little side glance that’s like, _it’s you and me against the world,_ and Jensen has this sudden feeling like maybe he would follow Jared anywhere just to stay on the inside part of that equation, so he gets in step, right quick.  
  
“Might as well,” Jensen finally says, “no time like the present.”  
  
Pellegrino only looks confused for a moment, then a little disappointed. He was probably looking forward to throwing his weight around and threatening them with demerits or something. He huffs a prissy little sigh. “Fine then, if you two princesses want to follow me…” He turns and heads toward the elevator bank.  
  
Jensen and Jared follow behind, just out of earshot, carrying their boxes in front of them. “HR has all the files,” Jared stage whispers. “From every department, every employee. We can find out where Misha lives.”  
  
Corporate espionage. Not where Jensen envisioned his day going today, but hey, it’s really just one more thing at this point. Why the hell not? He imagines Jared has exactly as much experience as he does when it comes to knowing how to divert attention, locate and steal files, but he has exactly nothing to lose at this point.  
  
“Ok,” Jensen says, “but I get to be the diversion. You have to be the one to grab the file.”  
  
Jared looks at him funny. “I was thinking of just bribing him,” he says. “Pellegrino’s an asshole. I don’t think it would take much.”  
  
Jensen has to admit, that sounds a little easier.  
  
Nearly two hours later, Jensen feels like he needs another shower, but they managed to get Misha’s address _and_ scrape together a reasonable explanation for the events of the past few days. Not reasonable enough to save their jobs; they’ll never work for Metaphysical Inc. again, but enough to keep them from getting arrested, or purged, or worse.  
  
Misha’s apartment is in this totally hipster area of town, where the yoga studios are only outnumbered by the pop-up wheat grass smoothie trucks. Jensen rolls his eyes as they pass a tantric realignment studio. It totally figures.  
  
“Jensen,” Jared says as they sit down in a café across the street from Misha’s brownstone. “What _are_ we going to do when we get her back?”  
  
Jensen remembers his dream. Remembers bridging Bee while he slept. It felt like a promise. An at-all-costs level promise. He was going to have to do some things that he’d never thought he’d do. And that was that. “What about all these black market friends of yours?” he asks. “How do they get in and out with their stuff?”  
  
“You hit the nail on the head,” Jared says, “in and out. Most of them know where some cracks are, some thin spots. But a lot of them are no good. They don’t lead anywhere interesting or valuable. You need a crack that comes out right near wherever your product is; slip in, grab your stuff, come back. You stay too long, it’s just like for us; you get stuck.”  
  
“How do you know?” Jensen asks, turning it over in his head.  
  
“How do I know what?”  
  
“How does anyone know what happens? If you get stuck, it’s not like you’re going to send postcards back and explain what happened.”  
  
“Huh,” Jared says. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it.”  
  
“It’s like all this stuff they drill into us about human world safety. You’ve been living with human world stuff, you’re fine. Misha is walking around with Bee and the world isn’t falling apart. I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”  
  
“Why would they tell us all this if it wasn’t true?” Jared muses. “I mean, they really go all out in the _human stuff is dangerous_ department. And yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t add up.”  
  
It’s been a long day. It’s hard to believe that it was only this morning that he stood in the shower with Jared. It feels like it was forever ago.  
  
The lights are coming on in the neighborhood, little bullshit twinkle lights and ironic bare bulbs dangling over tables on the sidewalk, but even Jensen has to admit, it’s kind of nice.  
  
“You know,” Jared says, “It’s really kind of just like all this,” he gestures at the neighborhood around them. “Only real.”  
  
Jensen nods. The avatars are comforting. Grounding. He’s gone through periods where he abandons all that and simply exists, and it’s _boring._ Breathing and sleeping and feeling tired, tracing the outline of the crow on Jared’s stomach? Those kinds of things made it worth going on. Imagine if they were _real_ , rather than just some coping mechanism they all used to keep from self-destructing?  
  
He reaches out and brushes the back of Jared’s hand with the tips of his fingers. As if reminding himself of how real Jared feels, despite what he knows about their nature. “What if,” Jensen says, and pauses to carefully think it out before he says it out loud. “What if they are telling us the human world is dangerous just to keep us here? Maybe it’s only… propaganda?”  
  
“That would explain a lot.” Jared drops his head on Jensen’s shoulder.. This is Jared. Always touching. Acting as if he’d always touched Jensen like this. Jensen doesn’t push him away.  
  
They sit in silence for a while, lost in thought. Jensen feels like his thoughts are going around in circles. They need to get Bee back. They need to return her. But they don’t know how or where. They could get stuck in the human world if they have to search too long to find her family. But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. What would happen to a being like him if he got stuck there? What would happen to a being like Bee if she got stuck here? It doesn’t matter because he’s not going to let that happen. Anyway, it’s all a moot point, because they’ve got to get her away from Misha, and he doesn’t see how that’s going to work either.  
  
“Do you know any ghosts?” Jared asks suddenly.  
  
“Sure,” Jensen says. “A few.” Ghosts were human souls that for some reason hadn’t been reaped… scratch that; _transitioned._ It’s not surprising Jared doesn’t know any, because the Death Division puts out bounties on them. To Jensen’s mind, they’re little more than benign pests. Flitting back and forth between the human world and this plane of existence was no trouble for a ghost; they had no physical presence and a spiritual one so slight that they didn’t even need a crack or a thin spot to pass through.  
  
“What if we got a ghost to find out where Bee belongs, and find a crack near there?” Jared asks.  
  
Jensen thinks it over. “How common are cracks? How likely are we to find one near where we want?”  
  
“No idea. But it would be a place to start, right?”  
  
Jensen stands up and transfers some credits to the café. If Misha hasn’t come home by now, either he’s on to them or Pellegrino played them and gave them the wrong address. They can’t sit here all night. “Worth a shot,” he says. “and I think I know just the ghost and where to find him.”

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93933/93933_original.png)

  
Jensen first met Osric when he was doing a little research on sleep. He hadn’t always had a human avatar and at first some of the habits of his new manifestation made him nervous. He doesn’t need to breathe or eat or sleep— _or kiss_ , his subconscious helpfully adds—but he found that he really enjoyed some of the things human bodies did, and wanted to make sure they weren’t habit forming and didn’t come along with long-term side effects.  
  
There’s a library in the older part of the city, far enough away from Metaphysical Inc. that avatars weren’t always human, the kind of place where you were likely to run into some of the Old Gods who had picked up quirky hobbies in their retirement. Like reading.  
  
Osric lives in the ancient languages section of the library, where he lets his energy marinate in the pages of the old tomes and wheedles passing patrons into taking books off the shelves and leaving them open on the table so he can read them. Every so often, he asks the next passerby to turn a page for him. A lot of people ignore him, but Jensen always stops and helps him out whenever he’s in that section of the library. That kid owes him.  
  
As he turns the corner into the stacks, Jensen remembers the other thing about Osric. He’s a hugger. Or, at least, the ghost version of a hugger, which is that he breaks into a huge smile when he sees Jensen, then runs at him full tilt, arms spread wide, and passes right through him. Jensen almost can’t feel it, just the faintest tickle passes along the edges of this Avatar, but it gives him a shiver nonetheless.  
  
“Jensen!” Osric shouts. He has to shout everything to be heard at all. “And…” he looks Jared up and down, “… Jensen’s ‘friend.’” He says this with the slightest trace of a smirk. Jensen lets it pass.  
  
“Nahuatl,” Osric says. “They’ve got it filed with the modern classics, but I think they seriously underestimate the influence that—”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Jensen says. “I’ll get it. But I need to know if you can do me a favor.”  
  
“Sure,” Osric says, but he looks a little uncertain. He glances nervously at Jared. “What’s this about?”  
  
Jensen explains what they need and Jared interjects here and there with details about Bee and Bee’s family that Jensen hadn’t picked up on.  
  
“It’s all over the news there, you say?” Osric asks. “Because I can only see what I can see, out in the open. I can’t get humans to help me look things up over there like you guys do for me here.”  
  
Jensen hedges a bit. Relying on information they learned from Misha might not be the best idea, but they’ve got nothing else. “Well, we’ve heard it’s causing quite a stir over there. You should be able to catch something useful.”  
  
“I can try,” Osric says. “You’ve always been good to me, Jensen. I owe you.”  
  
And with that, he’s gone. Jared startles a little. Ironically, he doesn’t have much experience with ghosts. He says they’re afraid of him, which totally isn’t fair.  
  
Osric’s back immediately. “You didn’t tell me the part about her being that American diplomat’s daughter. The good news is that it was easy to find out where they live. There are reporters and news vans outside their house 24/7.”  
  
“The bad news?” Jensen asks, although he has the feeling he knows. One look at Jared and he can tell Jared knows too.  
  
“No cracks anywhere nearby. I mean, anywhere close enough for what you need. I think it’s maybe at least a 20-minute walk, human time. And you need to go by human time if you’re carrying a baby. I can show you the way, but that’s probably too long, right?”  
  
Definitely too long. The portals they use for work are operational for less than a human minute. The safety seminars Jensen has attended say that a two-minute stay would result in permanent entanglement with the human world anti-matter signature. In other words, they’d be stuck there forever. Considering how wrong they were about the toxicity of humans themselves, it’s possible they’re wrong about that too. But the science checks out from what little Jensen understands, and even if there’s a good chance it’s all just more propaganda, there’s still a chance that it’s not, and it’s not like they would get a do-over if they place their bets on the wrong side.  
  
“Soooo… I gotta ask.” Osric has this look in his eyes like he does when he wants Jensen to get a book for him from some really pain in the ass back alley of the library, only times 100.  
  
“Yes?” Jensen prompts.  
  
“That thing you did with the baby. Any chance you could do it for me? Like, make me a real human again?”  
  
Jensen glances at Jared. Shoots him a _why not?_ glance _._ A lot of that has been happening in the past 24 hours. What have they got to lose? The higher the stakes have gotten for them, the less Jensen cares about the consequences. He’s about to say, “sure, no problem, kid” when Jared shakes his head, no.  
  
“This is how you ended up this way,” Jared says gently. “Holding on to human life. You need to move on. That, I can help you with.”  
  
Osric looks uncertain, but Jensen knows he’ll come around. Ghosts don’t stay young like this forever, and Osric knows it. He knows what his future looks like, and it isn’t pretty.  
  
“If you reap me, who’s going to show you how to get to Bee’s house?” Osric asks, and Jensen sees Jared bristle at the slur, but he lets it slide.  
  
“We’ll have to figure it out,” Jensen says quickly.  
  
“And how will you get there anyway? You’re no more able than me to carry a baby in the human world.”  
  
This time, it’s Jared who says it. “We’ll figure it out.” But Jensen’s mind starts carrying him in a different direction. Something clicks, something makes all of this fit together in a way that makes him zone out for a moment, connecting the dots.  
  
“Jensen?” Jared is peering at him curiously, and Jensen can’t help but think— _is that what Jared’s avatar would look like if he were a real human?_

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93307/93307_original.png)

  
They’re staying at Jared’s place, because he’s got all the beetles and such to feed. It’s so much noisier than Jensen’s place; the people in the tattoo/bookstore are “working” late and they are all drunk and shouting, and there’s these weird clunking noises on the pipes and somehow it all makes Jensen feel close and possessive of Jared, like no one knows the two of them are there together, quiet in the dark.  
  
So, they’ve got two big problems. One, they still don’t know where Misha and Bee are and how they are going to convince Misha to give her over. That’s the smaller problem. Jensen called it that Misha wouldn’t be able to resist flashing her around, and it’s only a matter of time until he gets back to more of the same. They’ll find her.  
  
The second problem is a bit more thorny; how to get her back where she belongs, once they have her. It’s possible they could turn her in to some… higher authority, although Jensen really hasn’t the faintest idea who that might be. Not Jim Beaver. Not Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Either of those guys would be likely to crap themselves thinking about how much paperwork she represents, then call a Physical World Hazard Containment Team in and firebomb her on the spot. And if there’s some other, behind the scenes, above all the propaganda and red tape figure running things, Jensen would sooner eat some of Jared’s beetles, live and wiggling, than to trust someone who’s been deceiving them about the nature of the human world all this time. Bee is evidence of that deception.  
  
“You’ve been quiet all night,” Jared says, tracing his fingers through the short hairs at the back of Jensen’s neck as they lay together in the dark. “But I can hear you thinking. What’s up?”  
  
Jensen doesn’t answer right away. What he’s thinking is too big, too important to get wrong. The weight of Jared draped over him, the heat of his skin is the only thing that is keeping Jensen grounded right now, and he wants to stay like this forever. That’s who he is; he finds something good and sticks with it. This thing with Jared is the best thing he’s found in a long time, and the thought of changing it? Risk losing it? Jensen buries his forehead in Jared’s shoulder.  
  
“Come on,” Jared coaxes. “Get it out.”  
  
Jensen thinks about how three days ago, he would never have dreamed that his life could change this much and that it would be okay. So, he takes a deep breath and charges forward. “So, you know how Osric said it would be a 20-minute walk and we’d have to do it in human time because we’d be carrying Bee?”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“Well, what if we were human too?”  
  
Jared’s fingers go still, then he pulls Jensen closer. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, your whole speech the other night about what you do—transitioning—got me thinking. The whole reason I’ve always been so appalled by the human world is how quickly it comes to an end. Like, what was the point? But you’re saying what you do is _not_ an end, and that changes everything.”  
  
“What does that have to do with us?”  
  
“We’d do anything for her right? Keep her safe, get her back to her family? Well, we can’t do it as _us,_ but we could, theoretically, do it if we were human. Go through a crack and bring her back ourselves. If we could make Bee’s spirit human here, maybe we can do it to ourselves. We’ve really messed things up for us here, really, so what have we got to lose?”  
  
They haven’t messed up things beyond repair. It’s not like there’s absolutely nothing for them here. Jensen could find another job, probably. Might even be able to get his old job back with the proper amount of apologizing, as long as they never get caught with this whole business. It’s more that… it doesn’t really matter where he is. Here, the human world, wherever, because Jared has changed him in a way that makes him feel that change is not so bad, and that the unknown has just as good a chance of being something really amazing as not. Maybe a better chance, if it’s with Jared.   
  
“But how would we know? If it would work?” Jared’s voice is low in the dark, his lips brushing softly against Jensen’s cheek as he speaks.  
  
“We don’t. But that’s just it. That’s the thing I wasn’t getting about humans. They don’t know how it will go, what will happen, how it ends, and they still want to go through with it. Life. That’s amazing. If they can all do that for really no reason, we could do it for Bee.” After a moment, he adds, “If we could do it together.” Because it all hinges on that. No way could he do it without Jared.  
  
“What happened to Bee, that was an accident. A freak of nature. We don’t even know how we did it.”  
  
“True, but…” Jensen doesn’t have the words for the feeling he has. Just that he thinks it will work. Jared is _Change_ and Jensen is _Life_. And something deep in him has this weird feeling that together, they are more powerful than they know.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94013/94013_original.png)

“Hello, Misha.” Jensen is waiting for him outside the Prayer Exchange building, the single most chaotic place in the city. Jensen has been watching brokers stream out of the subway and in through the doors for half an hour now, and he has re-evaluated how much his former job sucked. Every single one of these people looks like they would rather self-immolate than walk into the building. Jensen has never seen avatars in such bad shape—fraying around the edges, true-forms peeking out through tears here and there. He saw one dude openly snorting soul-dust right out in plain sight, hyping himself up to do his job.  
  
There are more than 4,000 different religions on earth, distributed among nearly eight billion people. And don’t even try that _not everyone is religious_ argument here. Jensen knows from even _his_ limited experience with humans that you don’t need to be religious to pray.  
  
Some prayers are more powerful than others. _Please God, don’t take my boy._ Others are almost meaningless. _Please don’t let it be Stacy on the phone._ But they all have value. And here, they’re bought and sold on a trading floor, much like the stock market in the human world. Jensen thought Misha would head for a place like this, and he was right.  
  
Misha comes up out of the subway and he has Bee in some sort of literal bee costume complete with dark, baby-sized sunglasses. Jensen thinks, _where does he come up with this crap?_ But at the same time, he smiles. Misha is going to be Misha. And like Jensen told Jared, Misha is a good guy, deep down. He can’t help if he was born to Chaos. Most of the time, his shenanigans make Jensen smile.  
  
“Good morning, Jensen.” Misha grins. He’s really pretty pleased with himself, Jensen thinks. But it’s Misha’s nature to get bored and want to move on to the next thing. Jensen is banking on it.  
  
“So, let’s say we take a little walk,” Jensen says, gently taking Misha by the elbow and steering him in a U-turn, away from the Prayer Exchange building. Bee coos and looks up at Jensen. Well, at least he thinks she’s looking at him, hard to tell with those ridiculous glasses on.  
  
Jared meets them a block down the street. He’d been staking out the Timeline Nest and transfers 16 credits to Jensen’s account. It was a bet Jensen had not been sure he would win.  
  
“Tell us about how Chaos works,” Jensen says. “What _really_ racks up your points?”  
Misha, of course, loves Chaos, but he also loves philosophy. He loves thinking about how the world works. He loves poking around in the corners and tinkering with shit, and then sharing what he’s learned with anyone who will listen. So of course, he takes the bait.  
  
“Well, contrary to what everyone thinks, it’s not the big showy stuff,” Misha replies. “The true beauty of chaos is that it’s the little things.” Here, he gestures to Bee, “that make the biggest difference. Little things are big triggers. Pebbles that start an avalanche. A glance that starts a love affair. The thing is that _no one knows_ the outcome. If it was predictable, it would be Order.”  
  
Jared frowns. “But big things can cause Chaos, too, right?”  
  
Misha makes a face and waggles his palm in the air. “Meh. The big things, people tend to be prepared for. A tornado might give us a spike in Chaos for a bit, but it levels out, because humans who live in tornado-prone areas are usually both prepared for them and used to them. They rebuild, they have systems in place, _insurance_ and stuff.” He sneers the word insurance like it’s a swear.  
  
“It’s the little things, the things that fly under the radar, that make the biggest splash. Unpredictability is the key.”  
  
Jensen nods. This all pretty much jives with what he’s been thinking.  
  
“I noticed yesterday when we got fired, it gave you a bump in the Chaos department.” Jensen hadn’t been able to get that out of his mind. He wouldn’t have thought they’d have any effect. Two cogs in a giant machine.  
  
“Exactly!” Misha exclaims. “ _Exactly_ what I’m talking about. Nobody would expect you two to be all that important in the grand scheme of things, but everything has ripples. Unexpected consequences. For example, Jared, do you know who replaced you in the Death Division today?”  
  
Jared shrugs. “No idea.”  
  
Misha smirks. “Chad. Michael. Murray.”  
  
Jared stops dead on the sidewalk. “ _What?!_ He’s like—isn’t he the one who was reprimanded for setting off a wormhole in the Gravityside breakroom?”  
  
“The very one,” Misha confirms.  
  
Jensen has to admit, that’s a pretty low blow from the Death Division. Maybe they want Jared to come crawling back and beg for his job, because that just seems like they’re taunting him. Or maybe the rumors about Chad and Mr. Morgan and all those late nights “working” together are true. However, this is getting them off track.  
  
“How do you like taking care of the baby?” Jensen asks, trying to sound casual.  
  
“Oh, she’s amazing,” Misha says, but it has a false ring of over-enthusiasm to it.  
  
“Sleeping through the night?” Jared asks. Misha has dark circles under his eyes.  
  
“Not exactly,” Misha admits. “I expect there’s an… adjustment period”  
  
“Well, sure,” Jensen says. “But every age has its charms. Teething, potty training, terrible twos, etcetera.”  
  
Misha is starting to look a little dubious. “I am _not_ giving her back. I don’t even know why you guys care, anyway. You’re not even working for Metaphysical Inc. anymore. What’s it to you?”  
  
“That,” says Jared, “is how you know it’s the right thing to do. We’re not doing it for some dumb inter-office competition.”  
  
Misha pouts. “That’s all very well and good for you to say, but _I,_ for one, still am. And I have a reputation to uphold. I’m the top Chaotic Good in the department, and I intend to stay in that position, so you can forget it.”  
  
Jensen looks across Misha to Jared, a question unspoken between them. Jared doesn’t hesitate, not for a moment, just nods a quick, decisive, _yes._ Jensen takes a deep breath.  
  
“Then have we got a deal for you.”

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93933/93933_original.png)

  
Jensen stands in his apartment, alone. Jared is back at his own place, trying to find a black-market buyer for all his little creatures. Jensen has a hard time believing there’s any sort of a market for those things, but who knows. Four days ago, he wouldn’t have believed that you could go out in the middle of the night and come back with formula and diapers either, but that happened, so…  
  
For his own part, he’s amazed at how little connection he feels for the place he’s called home. There’s nothing here to say goodbye to, unless you count his shower, and Jared has assured him that they have showers _exactly_ like that in the human world, and not to worry.  
  
He takes in the bright light streaming through the windows, something for which he’s always had an affinity, but now it seems lifeless and cold. Just some photons streaming through the void. For someone who’s supposedly Life personified, his life has been astonishingly sterile.  
  
Until.  
  
It’s tempting to think that Bee changed him. She’s the catalyst for everything that happened, right? She’s the reason he’s about to take this leap. Maybe. But the one thing he keeps coming back to when he thinks back to what started this is the protective way Jared pulled her to his chest in that first moment. The utter surprise and deep-down gut-punch he’d felt at seeing this death-dealer show such affection for life. _That’s_ what started this. _That’s_ what changed him.  
  
It’s time to go. Jensen turns, and doesn’t look back.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93307/93307_original.png)

  
They make a motley little crew gathered together backstage in the Celestial Choir theatre. Agents for not only Life and Death, but also Chaos, toting along a live human baby and a spare ghost. Osric has assured them that this is the nearest crack to Bee’s house, and that he knows the way once they go through. Misha has promised to rein in his nature and no funny business until they are well and away into the human world. He’ll make sure they stay good and lost.  
  
Turns out, two “lost” interdimensional beings were a _very_ good trade for one human baby. More points on the board and much fewer diapers to change. Also, that whole Chad Michael Murray and Jeffrey Dean Morgan thing was really starting to pay off, big time.  
  
A crack isn’t the same as a portal. A portal is a nice clean slice in the universe. The edges are more or less cauterized. It opens on command, stays open for a prescribed amount of time, closes and seals without a trace. This thing in front of them? This is something altogether different.  
  
The crack looks as though someone tore through the fabric of the universe with their teeth. An uneven rip that starts strong around shoulder height, but trails off, kind of ragged and pathetic near the floor to the right. It’s shedding dark matter, the floor is filthy with it, and yet there’s a kind of beauty to its asymmetry. Or maybe it’s just what it represents.  
  
Jensen closes his eyes and lets his mind let go for a bit. Lets the perceived world filter away to the actual plane of existence that’s been his home since the dawn of time. It’s a featureless void, for all its energy and competing forces. Everything that he thought he loved is all a façade, even Jared.  
  
But through there? Through that jagged tear? That’s real. There’s _life_ waiting over there for them. It’s terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. He looks over to Jared.  
  
Jared’s eyes are lit up with the soft glow coming from the crack, and Jensen feels no doubts.  
  
It’s time to go.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94013/94013_original.png)

  
“Okay,” Osric says, and he zips through.  
  
Jensen and Jared turn to Misha, who to his credit, squeezes Bee close for just a moment, eyes closed, and then kisses her on the top of the head. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we, Little Insect?” She gurgles and knocks him on the chin with her tiny fist.  
  
Misha places Bee in Jared’s arms. “Good luck, you three,” he says. “Remember, stay good and lost, and I’ll keep an eye out for Bee from this side.”  
  
“You sure the override is in place?” Jensen asks. Misha put in a work order for a temporary suspension of the laws of physics for a very specific location for a very specific time frame as well as a “blind spot” requisition. He says it was easy, the Chaos Division loves crap like that. Jensen isn’t sure that they’ll need it, but it can’t hurt.  
  
Misha shrugs. “We’ll see.”  
  
Jensen rolls his eyes. One would think Misha could lay off the _let’s see what happens when we roll the dice_ vibe for one freaking second. He’s pretty sure Misha will keep his promises. _Pretty_ sure.  
  
“Are you stalling?” Jared teases. He’s ready to go through, Bee cradled in one arm, satchel slung over his shoulder. Jensen hopes like hell there aren’t live beetles in that satchel, but he has his doubts. Jared was _very_ vague about what ended up happening to all his “pets.”  
  
“Not at all,” Jensen says, motioning towards the crack. “After you. Osric is waiting.”  
  
Jared gives Misha a jaunty wave, then stoops, gingerly steps one leg into the crack, and wriggles the rest of himself and Bee through, winking out of existence once he does. Seeing that makes it very easy for Jensen to get a move on; this world is suddenly and definitely not a place where he belongs any more.  
  
“Good luck, Misha,” he says and shimmies through the crack.  
  
It’s late at night in the human world, streets wet with rain that has passed, cars splashing by at the end of the alley they’ve found themselves in. The crack is nearly invisible on this side, Jensen suspects that once he’s human, he won’t be able to see it at all.  
  
Osric follows his gaze. “Yeah, it will still be there,” he says. “Even if you can’t see it. Okay, you have to pay attention carefully, because if you get lost or something, I am not going to be around to help.” He glances up at Jared. “Right?”  
  
“Oh! Oh, yeah, of course.” Jared has been looking around them, holding out his hand to feel the air, eyes darting everywhere, trying to see everything at once. Jensen gets it. Yeah, they’ve been in the human world before, but they’ve never taken the time to _feel_ it before. They’d always been busy doing their jobs.  
  
Osric gives them directions and makes them repeat it back several times. He quizzes them to make sure they completely understand what a city block is, and how they actually have to wait for the cars to go by before they can cross the street, and how very, very important it is that they not just walk up to Bee’s house and ring the doorbell like a couple of idiot baby-nappers. When at last he’s grilled them on every possible eventuality that might hit them in the next 20 minutes, he takes a deep breath. “Okay guys,” he says. “Let’s do it.”  
  
“Thanks for everything, man,” Jensen says, and takes Bee from Jared.  
  
“Safe travels,” Jared says, and when Osric nods, Jared reaches his hand out to him and he’s gone.  
  
“Safe travels?” Jensen asks. “Is that really… is that really what it’s like?”  
  
Jared shrugs. “I don’t know. Seems right.”  
  
Jensen remembers thinking the other night that was the beauty of it, the not knowing.  
  
“You ready?” Jared asks, and he looks so confident, so _sure_ that Jensen can’t help but catch some of it himself. They’ve got to do it quick, no telling what will happen if they wait too long here in their elemental forms. He steps up close to Jared, who winds his hands around Jensen’s waist.  
  
“I’m ready,” Jensen answers, and places the flat of his palm on Jared’s chest. When he feels Jared pull him in tight, in so close, he thinks, _bridge._  
  
There’s a shriek from Bee, as if she’s been zapped by a small electrical shock.  
  
He doesn’t need to wonder if it worked. The gravity of the earth, the weight of the moisture in the air, the rush of reality all around him. He wonders how he ever thought his old world was real, in _any_ sense. “You feel that?” he asks Jared, somewhat unnecessarily, as Jared is looking around with the same wonder on his face that Jensen feels in his own heart.  
  
“Come on,” Jared says, and they walk together out into the human world.

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/93933/93933_original.png)

  
Epilogue  
  
Closing up shop might be Jensen’s favorite part of the day. Favorite part of the _work_ day. It’s when he can concentrate on all his little growing things. Mist the ferns one last time, praising them for their exuberance. Inspect the orchids for mites and encourage them… life as an orchid isn’t easy. He checks on the clutch of ladybugs that Jared has given him, enjoys the feeling of their tiny little legs bundling over his fingers. These things feel familiar to him, a whisper of a memory from his old life. Keeping things alive.  
  
Time has passed so much more slowly than he had thought it would here in the human world. He had thought it would be over in a blink, but now he gets it. There’s time to enjoy the present, time to savor the bittersweet memory of things past, time to anticipate things to come. Like tonight.  
  
He closes the register, an old brass behemoth he found a few years back on the Upper West Side. It’s been a good day, the kind of late May sunny day that makes people want to plant things or buy flowers for their sweethearts, everyone in a pleasant, hopeful mood. He fusses a little with picking out the perfect blooms for a bouquet. Lavender, phlox, bee-balm. A small sunflower for the middle. Perfect.  
  
Jensen hadn’t started out in the flower shop, but he’s glad he ended up here. A few odd jobs at the beginning didn’t pan out, but the minute he walked through the door of the broken-down old shop, he knew this was the place for him. He’d helped the elderly owner bring the store back to life and, in turn, the gentleman had helped him buy it when he was ready to retire.  
  
Jensen locks the door up behind him, bouquet tucked under his arm.  
  
Jared took a different path and went to school. He’s not done yet, still working on his Masters, but he has a good internship at the crisis center, working with teens. It’s only 10 minutes out of Jensen’s way to swing by the center on his way home from work. Jared will probably want to go home before their night, decompress a little.  
  
Jensen only has the vaguest memories of his life before he came here, but he does have the persistent notion that someone has been watching out for them. Michelle? Something like that. Some invisible hand that expedites things like bank loans and financial aid forms even when all or most of the important documents are missing. Jared has mentioned how sometimes when he thinks about it, he gets a little cloudy, and Jensen knows exactly what he’s talking about. Still, they try to do the best they can and appreciate what gifts they’ve been given. Try to give back where they can.  
  
Jared is just walking out of the crisis center as Jensen approaches. Jensen will never get over how good Jared looks, black tee-shirt stretched over his shoulders, sunshine on his face. That smile. A person who has found their place in the world, a person whose inner beauty shines through.  
  
“C’mere, beautiful,” Jared tells him, and Jensen goes, careful not to let Jared crush the flowers as they kiss. A couple of teens hanging around the entrance wolf whistle and holler at them. Jensen smiles into the kiss.  
  
“We got time to go home if you want real quick,” Jensen tells Jared. Some days are worse than others at the crisis center, even if none of them are ever really good. Today however, whatever Jared has had to cope with, he shakes it off. The warm evening breeze seems to affect him the same way the weather affected everyone else that day. He turns his face to the sun, eyes shut.  
  
“Can you feel that?” Jared asks. “ _Feel_ it?”  
  
Jensen can. He takes Jared’s hand. “Come on then, let’s go.”  
  
They walk together past the city blocks. They’re heading quite a bit uptown, but they’ve got time, and about half way there, Jared pulls on Jensen’s hand. Pauses.  
  
“Does this place seem familiar to you?” he asks. He squints down an alley to their right.  
  
It’s just a dirty little space between buildings, but something tugs at Jensen’s memory. Is that maybe where they met? That can’t be right. Yet, there’s something about it… he starts to take a step in that direction, like maybe if he could see around to the back of that dumpster…, but Jared pulls him back. “I don’t know,” Jensen says. “Maybe not. Maybe just some déjà vu.”  
  
Yes, Jensen thinks. That’s must be it. They’ve walked this way many times since they came to New York, no doubt they’ve gone past the same alley on a night similar to this one in the past. And yet. He looks over his shoulder, thinks of a ghost and gets a shiver down his spine.  
  
“Do you ever regret coming here?” Jensen asks. It’s the sort of question between them that has a double meaning. The meaning that between the two of them becomes dimmer and dimmer each year, the idea that there was something _different_ before, and then the meaning that more and more they help each other believe—that this is how things have always been and best not look back too hard or carefully.  
  
“Not for a second,” Jared says. “I know there’s a lot of crap—look at the news, look at my job, but…” Jared stops again and turns toward Jensen. Puts his palms on Jensen’s jaw, fingers splayed over his neck and back up into the short brush of his hair at the nape of his neck, and kisses him. Deep. Searching. A kiss that answers the question quite thoroughly. Jensen would like to live 100 lifetimes in that kiss, but he knows they’ve only got this one, and they’re going to make it count.  
  
It’s not long before they reach their destination. A beautiful brownstone facing Central Park, flower boxes overflowing, thanks to Jensen, with riots of color and fragrant with scent in the soft breeze.  
  
Jensen looks over at Jared, just to confirm what he already knows; namely, that Jared is grinning from ear to ear. Jensen can feel the same on his own face. They must look like a couple of lunatics, but if they do, Mrs. Rhodes is probably used to it by now. It’s the same thing every time.  
  
She opens the door, a trim, handsome woman with a beautiful smile of her own—a smile perfected over years as a diplomat’s wife—and greets them warmly.  
  
“How lovely,” she says, taking the flowers that Jensen offers, “come on in, we’ll be ready to leave in a moment. She’s been dying to see you all day.” As they enter, Mrs. Rhodes bustles around, gathering her coat, shepherding her husband toward the door, then turns to call behind her up the stairs.  
  
“Bee,” she calls, using the special nickname given to her by Jared, “your babysitters are here.”  
  


[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/blackrabbit42/21355856/94314/94314_original.png)


End file.
